From the Ground Up

Author Annabel Monaghan goes from gardening novice to accidental green thumb with the help of a single bulb.

-  Annabel Monaghan

I bought my first house—light gray with white trim, like all the other new builds in my leafy, sleepy suburb of New York City—in 2007.

The outside was surrounded by plants that I largely left alone. The first sign of spring was a shock of canary yellow forsythia in the side yard, followed by soft pink blooms on the Japanese maple by the driveway. Come summer, July brought sapphire-blue pompoms on the hydrangea bush by the front door. Every year I resolved not to touch any of it. I knew nothing about gardening (I owned nary a trowel!), and I wasn't going to screw things up. So it was a surprise to me when, about 10 years in, I found myself gravitating toward a crowd buzzing with excitement in the Costco garden center as if it were a shoe sale. They peered into one another's carts with delight that bordered on envy, electrified by their treasure. Surely they knew something I didn't.