Read by Matilda Longbottom

AAh, the warmth of October’s sun in eastern North Carolina, where Fall is just a whisper and the joy is as abundant as the laughter of grandchildren. Join me on a delightful journey through my daughter Sarah’s garden, where the soil is rich, the sun is gentle, and the stories unfold like petals in the breeze.

“Come on, Grandma,” urges my energetic six-year-old grandson, Colton, leading me to their Fall garden. His eyes sparkle with the promise of hidden treasures as we embark on a quest to unveil the wonders of their harvest.

“Sure, let’s see what’s in your garden,” I say, ignoring the whispers of Fall chill in the air. Colton’s enthusiasm is contagious as he proudly showcases carrots, beets, and broccoli, sharing tales of seed-planting adventures with his mom.

As we meander through the garden, Colton, the budding horticulturist, imparts his gardening wisdom. “You have to fertilize them to give them food and help them grow,” he explains, making me forget any lingering knee discomfort. We even share a moment reminiscing about swallowtail caterpillars and the importance of pollinators.

With Colton as my guide, we explore the garden’s perimeter, discovering plants given by me, his ever-enthusiastic gardening grandma. His excitement is palpable as he points out each green resident, creating a living tapestry under the protective shade of an oak tree.

Back at the carport, Lily, the three-year-old artist, grins from her chalk masterpiece. In her pumpkin princess dress, she’s the maestro of her own colorful symphony, absorbed in the rhythm of creativity. The sun’s warmth soothes my knees as I revel in the simple joy of her whimsical world.

As I settle into my chair, I chuckle at the thought of Colton’s gardening prowess, a legacy passed down through the generations. From my mother to me, and now to Colton, the love for gardening blooms like an everlasting flower. It’s a beautiful realization that warms my heart as much as the Autumn sun.

Thinking back on days spent in gardens, I recall the lessons from my mother and the shared love for the soil with my daughter. Today, the gardening torch is carried not just by Sarah but also by the vibrant spirit of Colton, a testament to the enduring power of family traditions.

Relaxing in the sun, I reflect on the joy of being the kind of grandmother I always aspired to be — a storyteller, a gardener, a purveyor of knowledge. As my grandchildren wander through my flower beds, touching and smelling the blossoms, I realize that each one carries a tiny spark of me. The legacy of garden tales, passed through generations, is the most precious gift I could offer.

So, here’s to the magic of Autumn gardens and the timeless stories they inspire. May your days be filled with laughter, sunshine, and the boundless joy of creating memories that bloom like flowers in the garden of family. ❖