Brooklyn Botanic Garden

The Brooklyn Botanic Garden is a sort of heaven in the middle of Brooklyn.


There is something about this place that I find slightly intoxicating and it makes me want to go back again and again. The day was beautiful and not too hot. I had great company because I had my children and my dear friend, Shawna M. with me with her sweet Joey. It was a marvelous experience, but I will admit that the minute I get into the gates of the garden I become instantly starving and they have a strict no-food policy--I think they are worried about the plant museum they run, but there are times I think food for kidlets is inevitable and I do the best I can to keep it to a dull roar, but it has made it out of my bag a couple of times when crying commenced (sorry--I hate to bend the rules, but it is a fact).



They have a new area I have never been to which is this gigantic herb garden. Do you say "erb" or "h-erb?" I always feel like I am kind of gypping the "h" in that word and I think sometimes it sneaks in. The British glory in that "h," if I remember correctly. . . at any rate.
It had a glorious place to get wet. It was delightful to have the children smell the plants and find the ones we use in our soups and such. R suggested we fix soup as soon as we got home (that made me happy and I gave myself a inside-my-head high five).

We found a beautiful brook-let along the walk way to the children's garden. We had to stop and Sarah decided she must daintily walk across the rocks to the other side. The brooklet was really only a foot and a half (if that) across, but S felt she needed to be the total lady and go to the part that was two feet across with large rocks and a "quick sand" mud hole next to it. The branches of the tree drooped very low across that point and S misstepped, daintily as possible and right in the mud, with both feet. She started sinking and crying out for fear of mortal peril.


No, I pulled her out and sat her on a rock, washed her feet and pants as much as I could. Washed my hands and slightly muddy feet (thank you, chaco shoes). She recovered and we talked a little about the properties of mud and quick sand. We left soon after so we would have no repeat experiences such as those of above.

Then we went to the children's garden. It is always a place I have to drag my children away from because it is so interesting (and so get-dirty-ifying) and it seems to be the last place we go before we leave.