Today, as we stayed at my parent’s place, I felt like I stepped into a secret garden, one that only the mountains now. Everywhere I looked, there were plants growing freely, wild and beautiful, like they were dancing with the fresh air. Some flowers, I only now by their appearance because we created our own funny names for them. That’s magic of this place, nature is our playground and imagination is part of the tour. 🌿
My Mother is a true plant lover. Ever since I was young, she would collect plants from the mountains where we farm. He knows where the rare ones hide, how the vines twist. And which leaves stay green even under the sun. Every time he goes to the fields, he returns with a new “discovery” tucked under his arm, smiling like he found treasure.
One of the funniest plants we have is what we call the ikog-ikog plant. It sticks to tree trunks and crawls around like it wants to hug everything. My mother said it looks like a monkey’s tail, so we call it ikog ikog and honestly, the name fits so well that I can’t see it any other way now. Its strange, cute and so perfectly wild.
Then there are the Million Flowers that bloom in cluster like tiny confetti. Every time I see them, I imagine a celebration happening among the leaves. Beside them are the Everyday Flowers, which come in a different color. Pink, White and orange, it’s like a box of crayons got spilled on the hillside. Their colors make the whole mountain feel alive.
We also Anthuriums, standing tall and shiny like they know they’re beautiful. Their heart shaped leaves always catch my eye. And of course, the endless “dahoon dahon” plants scattered everywhere with different shapes, different patterns, all growing freely. Some people think these are just weeds, but here in the mountain’s beauty grows even in places most people ignore.
During the pandemic, my mother earned well from selling these flowers. Many people traveled up the mountain just to buy plants from her. The plants that others saw as “wild grass” became treasure to plant lovers, bringing color to their homes.
Being here again reminded me why plants give hope. They grow even in the hardest places. They survive storms, heat and cold yet they still bloom. They clam the mind, they chase away stress. They remind us to breathe, to slow down, to appreciate small things.
In this mountain, surrounded by wild plants and memories, I felt lighter, like the leaves whispered, everything will be okay.”
Thank you for reading my story from my mother’s garden, this is my owned picture, edited in Canva.