As a group, gardeners are hard workers. We battle weeks and vermin and love to dig in the dirt. There’s something very satisfying to putting plants in the ground and tucking them in. There’s another pleasure in pruning or giving the plants a needed haircut.

Nights begin well. I fall asleep to a favorite audible book, usually tucked in by a dog and a purring cat. I move into sweet dreams. But, sometime after midnight, I wake up. Sometimes, the dog paws frantically to be let into the kitchen for a drink. Other times, it’s a sound or a dream. It’s puzzling magic.
Back in bed, the dog settles in again, groaning happily and putting his head on my legs. The cat snuggles into a warm, purring puddle of fur on the pillow next to me. And I try to sleep. But I can’t.

I have always been fascinated with herbs since childhood. I can blame it on my parents because instead of taking my siblings and me to amusement parks, we always ended up at museums or historical areas. I was entranced with life in earlier times, especially learning how people used herbs in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Novels change us from within.