What started out as a walk to document the garden turned into a healing moment. I didn’t even realize I needed healing but breathing the fresh air and walking under these magnificent trees gave me a moment to reflect. Monday, May 25th started out quiet and calm; a sweet holiday for remembering the sacrifices made to insure our freedom. Then, a phone call from my sister in Iowa as she told the very recent (that morning) story of how her son, having just graduated from high school the day before, rolled his pick-up three times and escaped as it was going up in flames. Seth, dear to us before, is even more precious now.

That afternoon, I heard from my mother saying that her uncle passed away at the ripe old age of 95. I had hoped to see him at our annual July reunion. These things were all rolling around in my head, hidden by the concerns of the day. Near the end of my walk, I came upon the stump of a beech tree. A huge branch fell from its upper reaches on May 16th and the entire tree had to be removed. As I touched the moist stump, unexpected tears fell. Thoughts of my almost-lost nephew, my soft great-uncle Harvey and the many old trees in the garden rushed in.

I’ve spent much of the spring looking at flowers – squill, azaleas, lilacs and peonies in abundance – and not paying one bit of attention to the magnificent trees in the Winterthur Garden. The recent loss of the beech reminds me of each tree’s lifespan and of my own. Each day is a gift to unwrap, enjoy and use wisely.

Come enjoy the garden. I recommend a solitary walk to give your soul time to breathe and heal. Meanwhile, I resolve to make reservations to attend the Siglin family reunion this year.