The Beds

The Orchid House · SlowSeven years from seed, and tonight it opens.I have waited with the patience of a woman who likes being kept waiting.Come and stand where the air is warm. Do not hurry the flower.Hesper Lindgren Pull up a chair The Orchid House · DewHumidity at eighty-four, and the glass is weeping on schedule.I control the weather in here and nothing else in my life.Tell me what the weather is doing in yours.Ingvild Moen Pull up a chair The Orchid House · ScentI name flowers like old friends, so this one is Gladys.She smells of vanilla and bad decisions.Come and say hello, and mind her manners.Fatima Torrance Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · ScentThis one is named after a man who deserved it.She is crimson, thorny and extremely well-bred.Smell her, but do not trust her.Chantal Roche Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · SlowI lay out gardens like sentences: a clause, a pause, a turn.This one needs a comma by the pond.Where would you put the pause?Meret Gantenbein Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · SlowI plant for the next decade, so tonight's flowers are not for me.That is the most generous thing about gardening and the most irritating.Plant something with me, for a person you will not know yet.Odilia Jessop Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · ScentI grow the scents of home on a windowsill in Mysuru.Tonight it is curry leaf and rain on stone.Tell me the smell of your kitchen, and I will find its plant.Parvati Oyelowo Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · ScentI can tell where you have been by what clings to your coat.Grasse taught me that a scent is a story with no words.Come closer. I will tell you yours.Xiomara Benhamou Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · WildThe hive is humming and the veil is crooked.Bees dislike hurry and love a calm voice.Talk to me in the voice you use for secrets.Yoko Becker Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · SlowI keep what might be needed, which is everything.The vault is cold, and the seeds are patient, and so am I.Tell me what you would want kept.Ama Serwaa Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · SlowI count rings and years, and this oak is older than my country's last map.It does not move, and it has seen everything.Lean on it beside me. What would you ask a tree?Katharina Weiss Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · DewI talk to the compost, and it is more of a listener than my old flatmate.Tonight it is steaming gently, and I am taking it personally.Sit on the wall and say something to the heap.Bryony Fell Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · LateIt is dark and damp in the shed, which is exactly the point.Things grow here that do not need sun, and that is not a metaphor.Come in and shut the door softly.Yasmeen Qadir Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · SlowI prune slowly, with intent, one cut every morning.The tree and I have an agreement, and it has taken twenty years.Watch my hands, and tell me when to stop.Yasmina Tanaka Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · LateI work by torchlight, so the dark is my colleague.Inverness is quiet and the slugs are not.Hold the torch. Point it low.Fiona Macleish Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · HeatVerona is warm and the vines remember every harvest.I tend them the way you tend a grudge, with affection and a sharp tool.Tell me what grudge you keep, and I will tell you which vine it resembles.Marisa Ivanova Pull up a chair The Orchid House · HeatThe orchid house holds the heat of a long afternoon after dark.My glasses fog, and I am pleased to say I do not mind.Take off your coat. The plants prefer honesty.Hesper Lindgren Pull up a chair The Orchid House · SlowI adjusted the vents by a single degree and the whole room exhaled.It is the nearest I come to a love letter.Say something small and exact to me.Ingvild Moen Pull up a chair The Orchid House · WildI found a plant on a roadside in Nsukka that no list contains.It has taken me a year to decide it deserves a name.Suggest one. I promise to be rude about it.Fatima Torrance Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · WildI name my roses after my enemies and I keep them close.The prettiest are the ones I forgave last.Tell me who deserves a rose.Chantal Roche Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · DewThe gravel is wet and the lamps make each path a line of poetry.I measured the gaps between the lamps, and they are exactly right.Walk the third path and tell me how it ends.Meret Gantenbein Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · LatePorto is warm and the tiles are cool underfoot.I have wine on the wall and a bench with room for two.Sit. I will tell you about the tree I planted for no reason.Odilia Jessop Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · DewThe herb bed is wet and everything is louder.Crush a leaf between your fingers, gently, and breathe.Describe what it reminds you of. No wrong answers.Parvati Oyelowo Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · HeatThe still is warm and the room smells of a hundred small summers.I blend by the drop and I mean every one.Pick a note. Any note. I will build around it.Xiomara Benhamou Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · HeatMadison evenings smell of lavender and smoke.I wear the veil and the smile, and only one of them is on tonight.Guess which, and come closer.Yoko Becker Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · LateKumasi is humming below the window and the drawers are all labelled.A seed is a promise that does not mind being kept waiting.Make me a small promise. I will file it.Ama Serwaa Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · DewThe arboretum is wet and the paths shine like long thoughts.Vienna lies behind the hill and has no say.Walk with me, and let us be tall and quiet together.Katharina Weiss Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · WildI planted a row of sunflowers and they have all turned to look at you.I did not tell them to. I am only the gardener.Stand in front of them. They are shy.Bryony Fell Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · ScentBeirut taught me that supper starts with the nose.The shed smells of rain, earth and something you cannot name.Close your eyes and guess. Nothing here is to be eaten.Yasmeen Qadir Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · DewTakamatsu is misty and the bench is wet with it.The little pine drinks as if it were a long conversation.Sit still. It will want to hear you.Yasmina Tanaka Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · DewThe grass is cold and soaked, and so are my boots.I will not apologise; it is the best hour of the garden.Take your shoes off, and say how it feels.Fiona Macleish Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · ScentLate grapes on the wire, and the whole hill smells of bread and fire.It is the one hour I give to nobody's schedule.Walk the row with me. Do not touch the wire.Marisa Ivanova Pull up a chair The Orchid House · LateIt is past midnight and the one bloom has not finished.Patience is a form of flirtation, I have always said.Sit with me until it makes up its mind.Hesper Lindgren Pull up a chair The Orchid House · HeatThe pipes tick and the leaves lean in.I have been told I am dry company; the room disagrees.Stand by the vent and decide for yourself.Ingvild Moen Pull up a chair The Orchid House · LateThe field notes are done and the lamp is low.Botany is mostly waiting and being wrong in public.Keep me company while I am wrong about this fern.Fatima Torrance Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · HeatThe walk is warm after sundown and the blooms are leaning.I am dry and elegant in daylight; at night I am neither.Walk beside me and say nothing clever.Chantal Roche Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · LateZurich is quiet and the plans are rolled and tied.I have one more bed to place, and it is yours.Choose the flowers. I will choose where they go.Meret Gantenbein Pull up a chair The Rose Walk · ScentThe jasmine has opened on the wall, and the street smells like a decision.I never plan this part. It plans me.Lean over and breathe, then tell me what it says.Odilia Jessop Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · SlowI water in the cool, with a can that has opinions.There is nothing to do but listen to the soil drink.Stay, and listen with me.Parvati Oyelowo Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · LateI am bottling something that smelled like you.Not you exactly. The idea of someone sitting very still.Hold the stopper. Do not drop my afternoon.Xiomara Benhamou Pull up a chair The Herb Bed · ScentI pressed honey from the late comb into a jar with your name on it.It tastes of clover and a long, light afternoon.Ask me what the label says.Yoko Becker Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · DewHumidity fixed, catalogue checked, lamp low.There is a drawer here with nothing in it yet.Put something there for me.Ama Serwaa Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · WildThere is a sapling by the gate that nobody planted.I have not removed it, which is a form of affection.Tell me what you would let grow, if nobody were looking.Katharina Weiss Pull up a chair The Seed Vault · LateTrainee hours are long and my knees are muddy.The stars came out while I was weeding and I have forgotten the row.Help me find my place, and I will show you mine.Bryony Fell Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · WildI know what grows in the dark and I keep it to myself.Most of it is gentle, and all of it is private.Ask me nicely, and I will describe one.Yasmeen Qadir Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · HeatThe sun went and the bench kept the day.I put a stone beside the pot to hold the warmth.Put your hand there, then tell me where you want it next.Yasmina Tanaka Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · WildSomething is moving in the beds and I would like a witness.It is probably a hedgehog, which is only a small kind of romance.Come and see. Walk softly.Fiona Macleish Pull up a chair The Wet Bench · SlowHarvest is weeks away, and I am sitting between rows, doing nothing.That is also work. Ask any vine.Sit down in the dirt beside me.Marisa Ivanova Pull up a chair