Katie Higinbotham

We tend to use words like “fragile” when we describe an ecosystem, often forgetting everything plants endure in spite of harsh seasons and human-caused destruction. This PHQ essay was written in awe of that kind of survival, as well as the ways we can be resilient like the plants we are surrounded by. I grew up in the Willamette Valley in Oregon birding, hiking, and always being immersed in my mother’s thriving garden. Even though she has the greenest of thumbs and can grow anything she wants, she is always most excited by those things she didn’t plant. The things that make their way into the garden by accident. 

The Western Tiger Lily always held a sort of mystical quality for me. My mother instilled this excitement in me, through the way I saw (and still see) her eyes light up when she finds and names her favorite plants and fungi everywhere we go. Now that I have my own garden, I’ve seen more harsh realities. Not everything survives no matter the care we put in. It seems like almost everything now comes with a cancer warning label. So much in Oregon alone has been destroyed by fire. We have to find new ways to fight back and survive. I can’t always cultivate the things that enchanted me as a child. But I always go to my mother for advice, knowing she’s seen and survived much more than I have. If we can pause to listen to our plants and our mothers, we are lucky.