Old Friends

in the garden, on the anniversary of my mother's death

Our old Shade Garden, 2024 Photo by Lyn Swett Miller

When I finally replanted our rhubarb in our new garden in Vermont, I thought a lot about my mother, who died three years ago.

It seems so sad and lonely compared with its former self in our old garden back in New Hampshire. Mummy’s rhubarb was even more abundant than mine.

Not far from the rhubarb, I also planted some woodland phlox.

But when I planted the phlox, and smelled its sugary scent and was reminded of my grandmother, I didn’t feel sad about it’s loneliness in this new, rather stark landscape.¹

Instead, I felt like I was reconnecting with an old friend and could imagine in my mind’s eye how it will be, someday, when this new garden is as full and abundant as the one I used to know.

The fact that is has been unusually cold and very rainy this past week has certainly contributed to my feeling a bit blue. Gardening always helps though.

So when I went out to the garden this morning and saw the Hosta leaves with fresh drops of rain and the Solomon’s Seal flowers dangling in the breeze, they too felt like old friends.

As I created these images, I realized how even in this new place, I will continue to find inspiration. But as I created them, there was an even deeper familiarity…

Water on Hosta & Soloman's Seal Photos by Lyn Swett Miller

Because just last year I created these plant portraits in our old garden…

It’s uncanny how similar they are. I guess it’s true that wherever you go, there you are — same camera, same perspective — just a new location.

But the outcome is different - - It was so bright when I created these images last year and the backgrounds were so lush.

And look at this poor Mayapple, longing for connection…and then there’s the vision of what is to become…if it, and I, can only be patient.²

Mayapple VT 2025 & MayApple NH 2024 Photos by Lyn Swett Miller

Plants and people long for kin. We grow toward it, multiply to create it.

It takes years to cultivate and nurture, though. As in the old garden, I just need to keep showing up.

Mayapple With Ginger NH 2024 & Canadian Ginger Leaf VT 2025 Photo by Lyn Swett Miller

I’m pretty sure my mother had Mayapple and Ginger in her garden, but none of it was as striking as her abundant rhubarb.

Fifteen years ago, when my parents moved next door to us, we created a simple path between our houses which, over time, became well-trod.

It’s no wonder that a few days ago we installed a slightly curved path from our front steps to our parking spot. The base, like our path to my parents, was of Pea Stone and we filled it with round stone steps, like another path we’d created out in our shade garden.

New Path 2025 & Shade Garden Path in NH 2022

My mother always talked about how much she loved her old friends, human and non-human alike…and how grateful she was to bring plants from one home to the next.³

Even in new places, we cultivate the familiar…Which probably explains my continued documentation of our compost…

This Week's Compost Photos by Lyn Swett Miller

and Lilly’s ongoing pursuit of fetch with very dirty tennis balls.

As I mentioned, it’s the anniversary of my mother’s death and green burial. I went to her grave today and said hello. The familiarity of the scene felt like an old friend as well. It’s comforting to know that when you show up again and again, healing occurs in so many ways.

At Mummy's Grave, 2023, 2024 & 2025 Photos by Lyn Swett Miller

As always, thank you for sharing your time and this space with me.

With gratitude for you being you,

Lyn

Lilly’s New Perch Photo by Lyn Swett Miller

someday our new garden will feel like this…

…and hope you’ll leave a comment if inspired…And perhaps share today’s reflection if you know someone for whom it might resonate.

1. If there’s one thing plants like, it’s companionship. I forgot that when I put in some of the Lily of the Valley and Wild Geranium. Hopefully I planted them just close enough that they won’t feel alone alone, but far enough away so that they will spread their joy, nonetheless. I hope some of them take in their new home.

2. I am so grateful to have attended the Quechee Garden Club’s annual plant sale this past Saturday. Just as I hope to make new friends there, it was such a warm welcome to see my favorite plant friends ready to come home with me (Canadian Ginger, Mayapple, Wild Geranium, Solomon’s Seal & Lily of the Valley).

3. Sometimes we bring the actual plants or we plant the same species we once had. While our rhubarb is ‘vintage,’ the rest are new, but as I’ve explained, feel old…Although not photographed here, my parents and grandparents had a ton of Lily of the Valley and daffodils around their houses…sometimes we carry an image in our heads that we recreate because it just feels right.

My mother was also an avid documentary mushroom photographer. She would often talk about particular mushrooms, not just a particular species, but a particular mushroom that she would photograph year after year in the same place. As far as I could tell, she definitely considered them ‘old friends.’