Over the years, it has been no secret that I’m partial to flower gardening. Writing about flowers comes so easily, while writing about vegetable gardening – though a joy – has required more of an effort. I’m always a bit surprised to meet someone who thinks of flower gardening as a frivolous sideline to “true” (vegetable) gardening.

It’s natural that we’re drawn to the beauty of the world around us and, for many, flowers are a feast for the eye. Whether flower gardening is an attempt to harness and control nature, or simply a way to indulge the senses in natural beauty, I don’t really know. But my message this week is simple: If you don’t already have a flower garden, please plant one this year.

Once a woman said to me, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. Once you’ve seen one garden you’ve seen them all.” What a sad, sad thought, really. I wanted to scream at the injustice of her remark, but I was so taken aback I could only muster a half-hearted, “Oh.”

Images of gorgeous gardens I’d seen in real life, in paintings, in photos or movies, or just in simple line drawings ran rampantly through my head. Where could that statement have come from, I thought. No two gardens are alike or will ever be alike. Even if you planted the same flowers in the same place year after year, you wouldn’t see the same garden grow year after year. Each garden is unique, and blissfully so. Beauty can be as dramatic in a well-tended, full-blooming flower bed as it is in one single, perfect bloom.

The truth is, I’m not partial to any flower in particular. I love them all. How could I say I like the prim yellow flowers of cowslip more than the brilliant scarlet petals of the peony or the long, lazily drooping flowers of love-lies-bleeding? And I don’t actually have to see the flower to fall in love with the plant. Just let its name roll off my tongue and I may become instantly infatuated with it. Amaryllis, saxifrage, salvia and snowdrops. Dragonshead, anemone, lavender, Oswego tea. Mmm … they each sound so good! Some sound whimsical, others exotic. Do they run wild through the fields or stay obediently in the yard? I don’t care, I’ll try them all, if you please.

I tell my husband, should I die in the garden (which would be an absolutely perfect ending, in my view) just dig a nice hole and roll me into it. And don’t make too much of a ceremony about it, either, I tell him. Just fill me in and plant snapdragons over me, I say. No, on second thought, make that zinnias. Or, maybe it should be something perennial. Oh, I don’t care what you plant, I finally say, just plant something. Turn me into a flower, that’s what I want. He eyes me dubiously and finally signs his “Right, Diana,” sign and mentally tosses my rather outrageous request aside.

When we think about the nutritional, environmental and medicinal promise plants hold, we realize we haven’t really begun tapping into our plants’ potential. Flower gardening may seem like a rudimentary use of plants but, in truth, it can be the first step in a full appreciation of the plant. So reconsider if you perceive flower gardening as a wasteful use of resources. Perhaps you’ll come to see that many of life’s important lessons can be learned in the flower garden, whether it is large or small. All one must do is observe.

Watch plants cycle through the stages of life. Take notice of the birds, bees, butterflies and less desirable insects, which need your flowers for sustenance. Tend your garden with love and it will feed your soul and your spirit, perhaps for eternity. It may just make a difference in your life.