Free Day at the Gardens

This is the second year that Zellie and I have gone to the Denver Botanic Gardens together for Earth Day. Jeremiah worked last year, so she and I had come with my photographer friend, Anq. You can check out his work here.

This year Earth Day falls on a Wednesday, which means Jeremiah is off of work. I did invite Anq along, but he's off photographing bands, events, and really cool people in Florida. Whatever. Have fun, friend. We book our free tickets for 09:00 for the three of us, but we arrive close to 09:15. A coffee stop at Milly's Community Café was imperative, and also delayed us a bit. Worth it.

It's overcast this morning and we are relieved to have a break from the sun. We load Zelda into her stroller, I get my camera gear ready, and we walk from the parking garage across the street to the Gardens entrance. A lady kindly asks us for our tickets, and I show her our QR code. Even though it's a free day, you still have to reserve spots ahead of time. We stroll through the doors behind her and officially enter the Gardens.

There's a person in front of us a ways up with the coolest floral parasol I have ever seen, and I tell them as much. I think they may have crafted it themselves, as the underside of the parasol looks like the kind you can purchase from Hobby Lobby, or I'm sure, many places online. They did a beautiful job. I wish I would have asked if they sell the parasols as I would love to have one for myself.

We walk a little further and a symmetrical scene catches my eye. Zelda is still in her stroller, her feet up on the handlebar in front of her, gazing up at the cloudy sky, as Jeremiah pushes her around. I really like how the hedges line either side, spotted with large potted plants, leading the eye to a geometric design on a gate further away. Wings of a waterfall fall behind the gate. A pedestal planter stands closest to me, welcoming the eye to look that direction in the first place, willing you to look down at the gate.

We turn down a side path, skipping the rose garden. Zelda asks to get out of the stroller, so Jeremy stops, lifts her out, and I reach for her hand. You must stay on the paths at the Gardens and not be in the garden beds for what feels like obvious reasons, but a toddler does not understand all limitations and rules put forth by adults to maintain structure. Thus, she must hold Jeremy's or my hand if she is out of the stroller. We walk by some huge peonies. Mine at home are not yet blooming, but that's understandable. They are under the shade of the large tree in the front yard. I will try to move them this fall to the backyard where the sunshine they need and desire will be in surplus.

We keep walking, coming across a group of volunteers weeding an area of the garden. How peaceful they all look, sitting between the blossoms and the leaves, talking amongst themselves. I ask them if I can take a picture of them working, and they say yes. I imagine my mother would love to volunteer here amongst fellow gardeners. Maybe one day I'll join their ranks. Jeremy takes our daughter's hand as I take the photograph.

I reclaim her small hand, and we walk over to the sculpture garden. I let Zelda lead the way, and she walks us in a small loops, following the pattern in the bricks at our feet. Jeremy walks a longer way around while she and I walk in a circle, her pointing at the different plants, and me reading to her what their names are. She soon turns and follows another pattern in the bricks, leading us back to a small set of stone steps, up to where Jeremiah is with the stroller. We learn here that apricots are part of the rose family. We had no idea. I look back toward where all the volunteers were, and ask Jeremy to take Zelda's hand again. I love the way the path curves, drawing my eye back toward them, with the bough of a tree framing in the shot from the top.

I reach for my daughter's hand, and she grasps my fingers in her tight grip. Jeremy lets go of her other hand. He pushes the empty stroller, and we pause by a stone bench when we see a baby bunny. We also see the mother, close by, and another bunny a little further away. I lift my daughter so that she can see the baby bunny and I point it out to her amongst the plants.

"Bunny! Hop, hop, hop," she says. She's so stinking cute. I set her down on the stone bench. It's about ten feet in length, and she runs from one end to the other, occasionally grabbing the back side of it to practice her "hop hop". She is so incredible. I flip to my telephoto lens and snap pictures of the baby bunny, even getting one where it's tongue sticks out a bit. It seems content to sit not far from us, the toddler pretending to be a bunny, the father watching on, and the mother taking photographs. I think we make a good group.

I turn my lens down the path, back towards the corner where the rose garden is. There's a circular frame that goes around the path, like a portal from one area of the garden to another.

Zelda returns to the stroller, fruit snacks in hand, er, hands. We pass by daffodils, tulips, lilacs, signs that spring is officially here in Colorado. We make our way back toward the Shofu-En Japanese Garden area. We pass by pretty parasol person again, along with a bunch of other people. The crowd wasn't too bad when we first arrived, but it's definitely getting busier. Right before we cross the bridge into the Japanese Garden, I snap a picture of an Aspen tree. Its branches reach out gracefully over the water, the smaller trees of Shofu-En visible in the background.

We start to cross the bridge, but Jeremy spots a koi. He lifts Zelda out of the stroller and points the koi out to her.

"Fish!" she declares. She is correct. We are proud.

We see two more koi on the other side of the bridge, and then walk our way into the garden. It's so peaceful back here. Jeremy and I agree that this is our favorite part of Denver Botanic Gardens.

On a little edge, on the side of the pond, sits a toad. Or maybe it's a frog. I am not an amphibian expert. I just know that I have never seen one in Colorado in the almost ten years I have lived here. I have heard them in the Rocky Mountains, singing their songs by the water. I know they exist. I haven't particularly looked for one, but here one is. Right in front of us. He starts to hop away, and I happen to catch one picture of him with his hind legs in the air, mid-stride.

We left the peaceful corner, and tried to go up towards the café near the entrance. Zelda is hungry, and we figure we can get her some food there. You know, food that is not in the fruit snack food group. We try to make our way, but we got blockaded by a yoga group and the largest "mom group" I have ever seen. There are probably forty women with their strollers all congregated together, blocking a large area, and the only way for us to go unless we backtrack. We choose to backtrack.

We go back into the Japanese Garden, through the Bonsai Tree area, and up the side of the Denver Botanic Gardens until we make it to the café. Jeremy runs inside while Zellie and I stay outside. I let her run around a bit in a contained area. He returns to us with apple slices, apple juice, and cheesy macaroni. She gladly devours the apple slices.

The children's area of the Denver Botanic Gardens is up above the parking garage. We walk back across the street, ride the elevator up, and enter. It's the first time we've been in this area and it's really well done. Jeremy and Zelda play in a sand box designed to look like the bank of a river in the mountains. It's a happy place for her. It's soon time to go, as I am hungry for lunch, but I can wait until we get home.

Thank you, Denver Botanic Gardens, for allowing us to celebrate Earth Day with you for our second year in a row. I think we have a tradition started.