Prepare to be bombarded with pictures. I went to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens (and if you like visiting public gardens, become a member of AHS and use the reciprocal garden program). It was cloudy and the gardens were gorgeous so I was a super happy photographer. The only reason I am able to fit all the pictures from my trip into one post is because I had a nursing infant and preschooler along with me.
While there, I though about how beautiful everything is and how I like Atlanta. But although Atlanta is filled with fun stuff to do, has the most amazing wooded gardens, and has been a place I’ve been able to thrive, I also don’t considered it home. Home is Utah. Home is where I can actually give good recommendations on plants, I know exactly when the average last spring freeze is, and I know how to grow the biggest, juiciest melons. Home is where my family lives, where I grew up, and where the landscape is familiar and comforting even if it is covered in dry grass and sagebrush.
I wouldn’t mind if I did end up here, although that’s not the plan. Even if I do, Atlanta will always be an exotic location. It’s not the home base where I grew up and first grew a garden.