Editor’s Letter
DEAR FRIENDS From my earliest days, I remember being captivated by the bounty in my mother’s garden. One of my first recollections is helping her plant bulbs when I was three years old. The autumn weather had already turned crisp when we began our task, and copper-colored leaves crunched beneath our knees as we pushed a trowel into the cold earth, nestling tawny orbs in the soil. I could not imagine what might come from such humble beginnings. The wait seemed eternal as fall eased slowly into winter, but just as the faintest sounds of birdsong returned, we were rewarded with the most glorious sight my young eyes had ever seen: rivers of tulips in radiant bloom. I was awestruck by these showy harbingers of spring—slender green stems stretching heavenward to offer…
