Secret Gardens

 Where I live no pets are allowed. And that's fine with me even though I loved my once dogs and cats, birds and fish. What I do have to fulfill my pet need is a secret garden. It hides behind my couch right next to the west facing panel of floor to ceiling windows. No one can see my garden that lurks softly back there where no one can see, on a table shelf that holds a couple of  required artsy bits they can see. There is a fake fig tree rising above to distract and some peace lilies reaching up, but surreptitiously, at the floor level, grow oregano, thyme, garlic chives and a little tree of rosemary. No one knows they are there but me and I can keep secrets, other than telling you, of course. These verdant "pets" used to live outside on the deck, and likely dream longingly of their past homes through the glass in winter. Even though it is November, and while there is no frost in this temperate bit of Canada for now, they prefer to "winter out" in my living room. Everyone has a window, and everyone can have a green pet. It's not hard to garden even if you haven't reams of sunshine to bask in, during the winter. In fact, window gardeners will tell you that plants, or few of them, actually enjoy hot sunshine on their greenery. The greener your plant, the more it adores light, but not the heated kind. Most of the herbs you might grow, are green and if not watered too much and occasionally are given a touch of fertilizer, will thrive and produce enough herb for your enjoyment. Just seeing these greens thriving, or simply surviving, inside in places not drafty or icy, will thrill you with new tiny leaves to watch grow. I am not averse to sticking a garlic clove into some soil with its feet down of course, and the little pots of herbs you buy in the store, love to join the bigger guys in pots nearby. Naturally, you need to gather up your old saucers that hide in the back of the cupboards to put them under the herb pots. You don't want to harm those hardwood floors. Again, don't drown your green chappies, let them dry out, and then offer a lovely drink of water gently, and they will thank you. Of course, the old standby green onions, that you, I hope, have standing in water, changed daily, by your kitchen tap, to snip the tops off and colour your plated food, or to be put in a dish to dry for later, are a permanent joy. Very little of what I eat, whether it is a sandwich or fish or steak or soup doesn't have little green onion circles flitting about on top. The freshness in taste of green onion is Spring! And everyone can grow these that last from one shopping trip to another. "What is that smell" say my visitors. "Green onions of course" is my answer. You can take your sweet room scents, but leave me with the garden glory smell of cut green onion that tells me a story of something delicious in the offing. If you need a winter project, how about a secret garden? The rewards are much kinder than the daily news.