Memory in Bloom at Tower Hill Botanical Garden
I had anticipated the morning drive to the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill for weeks. Since joining the American Horticultural Society, I’ve planned trips to member gardens, with Tower Hill at the top of my list. Mapping out these visits brings a distinct excitement—part discovery, part journey. Each garden offers a window into the designed and the wild.
Botanical gardens have always been a favorite outing. They are calming, inspirational, restorative—places where design and ecology intersect to soothe and awaken the senses, grounding the soul in the present. Turning onto the quiet, tree-lined driveway up the hill, I felt I had slipped into a different area. The shaded woods and seclusion brought anticipation, like a door opening to another world. This reminded me why I seek these spaces so often: vital to my daily life, sanctuaries of balance and renewal.
Stepping out of the car, I walked to the entrance. Ornamental grasses whispered in the breeze. Daisies tilted to the sun, and I felt a blanket of peace settle over me. Summer color met me everywhere. New England asters began to open. Canada goldenrod glowed in the light. Pollinators darted between clusters of milkweed and bee balm. Tower Hill’s meadows and borders hummed with life. Each plant offered beauty and sustained the bees, butterflies, and birds that animated the air. Life and energy filled the wildlife habitat.
In the distance, a kinetic sculpture from the Art in Motion: 25 Years of Sculpture by George Sherwood exhibit caught my eye. Its form shifted with the wind and light, responding to the elements around it. The exhibit was a sparkling, magical symphony —a movement like music to the eye. I was struck by how effortlessly it embodied the dialogue between art and ecology—the very interplay I seek in my own work. I watched as nature's forces moved and changed it, as if art and nature spoke to each other in a shared language.
The garden opened like a narrative. Every path held a revelation. Fountains and botanical ponds trickled through stones among lily pads. Frogs hid in shaded corners; dragonflies skimmed the surface. Sculptures appeared in wild groves and forest shadows, holding quiet stories. Sound sensory stations made me pause and listen. From water to wind to the subtle movement of leaves, every detail inspired. These turned a simple walk into an immersive journey. Time slowed; attention deepened.
After finishing the trails, I wandered through the Orchards to the Farm and Fork Café terrace. Potted thyme, rosemary, and mint scented the air. With a view across the hillside, it felt like a European countryside retreat, perched on top of the world. The hallway featured the evocative "Chinese Empresses" by Xiang Li, on view until October 12. Portraits and artifacts gave the space resonance, showing that gardens are never just about plants. They are stages where history, art, and identity unfold together.
What struck me most was how the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill invited me to experience it not only as a visitor but as a participant. Each feature, each exhibit, each vista offered a reminder. Gardens are living narratives. They carry memory, imagination, and renewal in every season. I look forward to seeing what the New England seasons have in store.