When I was a little kid I was pretty lonely. I was an only child who had learned to socialize from older aunts and cats, and I had a bit of trouble approaching kids my own age. It might have had something to do with the undiagnosed autism too, but hey, either way, it meant I spent a lot of time reading and playing pretend in my backyard. As a city kid, I was very much confined to just the backyard while playing, so I often dreamed of turning the corner behind the driveway just to find a magic forest or a secret garden to play in, just like my books.

These days, I’m a lot less lonely, but I still read & pretend a lot and I still live in a city. While I’m no longer confined to my backyard, the city can still feel small and tiring. I am very luckily to have a boyfriend who enjoys to drive and has a dog who requires lots of outside time, so they frequently whisk me away of them away from the city and get a little fresh air.

One particular weekend, my boyfriend seemed much giddier than usual for our adventure. We were going to a plant nursery called the Garden In the Woods, and I didn’t think much of it. My boyfriend is a wonderful gardener and loves to care for things. From plants to people, he is always feeding someone, opening my car door, and making sure even the smallest Charlie brown Christmas looking trees are getting enough nutrients or protection from hungry rabbit and deer. A plant nursery seemed like a pretty standard activity and while I love me a good big green leaf, he is the one to ask about varietals and growing seasons while I can usually be found munching on which ever type of flower is edible and dozing in the sunshine while he examines roots and researches, so I had no particular expectations of wonder despite his apparent enthusiasm.

We approached in the woods where the nursery was, the gravel crunching under the cars tires and my eyes narrowed skeptically. From the way he had talked about it, this nursery had seemed like a pretty big deal and here we were, some potted plants and a few trees in front of a humble brown building. Now, I wasn’t expecting some giant shin dig, but the other nurseries he had brought me to in the past at least had some big white tents going on and rows upon rows of plants that I would walk up and down and admire like a green museum until my boyfriend was satisfied with his picks, but there didn’t seemed to be very much of that. There was definitely some rows happening in the back but the giant lanes of trees were no where to be found and I didn’t see one ridiculously large tent.

I soon found out why there weren’t any greenhouses or tents to cover up sensitive plants, all of the things grown here were all around us in the forest and the nursery specialized in only plants that were native to this region, thus, they didn’t need much help to be protected from the environment and the natural trees of the forest did a pretty good job all on their own of shading the plants.

We began down the small path to the side of the building and were quickly plunged into a forested path filled of flowers and vines. Dragonflies and butterflies danced around my head and hair, hairy vines reached daintily towards the path flirtatiously brushing our pant legs and I had to remind myself to breathe. I had finally found the secret garden I had dreamed about as a child. Stoned walls were luxuriously draped with mosses, skating bugs danced intricately along jewel like ponds and the birds and frogs of the forest were already in the middle of a great concerto of song when we found ourselves stumbled into Mother’s Nature’s very own concert hall.

The memory of hot pavements, harsh LED lights, emails to be answered and noxious car fumes slipped from my mind, washed away by the scent of the evening jasmine and primroses.

Every step, corner, tiny path and twisted turn, there were plants of all kinds. Soft plush lips & bleeding hearts dripping from stalks, yellow and white shooting stars exploding from behind green leaves, exotic looking pitcher plants with red hues that evoked a sanguine emotion to remind you of their carnivorous nature.

As I spun around, delighted in the colors and smells, I watched my boyfriend become a child again too. He began to rattle off facts and names with a crazed shine in his eyes. He darted from one side of the path examining leaves and roots, telling me about the secrets of the forest he’s learned. How instead of plastic bird & butterfly feeders he planted native flowers and berry trees around his house, attracting & feeding our wild neighbors while also making sure to not teach them to rely on humans for a free hand out.

We explored and played and gushed until the light grew murky and we were squinting to see the details of the leaves and flowers. It was only the worry that we wouldn’t reach the trail head before we could no longer see our noses that sent us trudging unwillingly back to small building and the lot where we parked.

My boyfriend excused himself to look at a plant to bring home as a souvenir and upon further investigation, I uncovered that the small unsuspecting building from the beginning of the lot actually housed a small retail store filled to the brim with books and all other kinds beautiful and useful things as well as information about classes they offered.

A Garden In The Wood is run by the Native Plant Trust isn’t only beautiful in the most subtle and delicious way, but the people of the Native Plant Trust also seek to inform everyone of the importance of our native plants, and if we want to protect our plant & have our local wildlife flourish, well, it really does start from the ground up.

As a traveler, I love learning about native species and I personally think sustainability is really important. I love this world so much, I can’t think of why I wouldn’t want to make sure it stays as healthy as possible and travel responsibly, so I can enjoy all of the great things in it and then hopefully maybe come back and see them again or make sure they’re still there for someone else to see. This includes making sure we’re respectful of our native ecosystems and the ones that we are visiting.

We drove off in the setting sun, my boyfriend with a tray of red pitcher plants happily bobbing in the back seat and me in the passenger, absorbed in a new book about the various types of fungi of New England.

Only a 35 minute drive from Boston, I would prescribe a visit to the Garden In The Woods immediately if you are showing signs of a plant obsession, city fatigue, or a inner child who needs to spend some time playing in a secret garden. It will cure the fatigue and wounded inner child, but it will do nothing for the plant obsession I’m afraid, but it will at least help you make better choices about what you want to put in the ground!