Have I told you the story of the Quince?
All the old houses around here have 100+ year-old Quince bushes. I don’t know if they were very on-trend at the turn of the last century, or if there was someone in the community who was a Quince proselytizer, but either way any house that’s more than 100 years old has one, and they’re huge–think 12′ in all directions.
When we bought our place, there was no quince, and I thought that was sad–someone cut it down or it died–so about 5 years in, a neighbor gave me a baby off hers, which I planted with my Hazelnuts to grow into a delicious shrub in the fullness of time.
The following spring, a Quince bush the size of a car (but only 6″ high) appeared in the middle of the front yard. Out of nowhere, in a patch of lawn that I’d been looking at for at least 6 years, the snow melted and there it was. The year after, it grew itself a big garden. Now every year since, new flowers have appeared in that garden–all kinds of bulbs, comfrey, sweet pea vines, weird ornamental mints that I can’t find names for, peonies…it’s fascinating.
I have mentioned my resident garden ghost before. She has given me other plant gifts, but this is easily the most amazing. It felt like, in planting a Quince relative from up the road I opened up something between us, made it clear how the land would be cared for or that we value the old things or maybe just something recognizable she could respond to, I don’t know.
Ever since, the garden gifts have been more responsive: I plant a peony, and half a dozen peonies appear in a different spot next year. I put in a row of iris along the path from a neighbor, and dozens of iris in all different colors show up under the lilacs by the road. I start pulling out lily of the valley and giving it away to neighbors who don’t have kids, and entire patches disappear that I didn’t touch.
Every time the Quince blooms I feel it deepen my connection to my landcestors, and when we harvest the fruit in the deep fall it feels like a message of safety and care from the land to my family, and so it is a place that we leave gratitude.
Where do you connect with the history of your home? How do you express gratitude?
Where do you connect with the history of your home? How do you express gratitude?