08/05/2026
Calendula.
Years ago, I spent the holidays in Rome with a dear friend who had moved there. We often walked through the city and sometimes found ourselves in the Gianicolo, the hills above Rome where the American Academy is located.
At the time, Alice Waters had begun a food project there, spearheaded by monatalbott . They created a garden on the Academy grounds, growing beautiful local ingredients for the residents’ meals.
But something unexpected happened.
The artists, writers and filmmakers working at the Academy would step outside for a break and find the cooks weeding, watering or harvesting. They began asking if they could help and discovered that the simple, focused work of tending the garden freed their creative minds—often leading to breakthroughs in their work.
Today, I found myself doing much the same thing.
After a very full week, I realized I hadn’t had much time to simply be. The day was cooler, rain was coming, and although I had just returned from errands and wasn’t dressed for farm work, I felt drawn outside to harvest the calendula.
I grabbed my hat and a basket, knelt beside the plants and slowly made my way down the row, plucking each fully opened flower. I became so absorbed in the quiet rhythm of it that I didn’t notice Matthew had begun filming me.
I’m glad he captured the moment. But more than that, I’m glad I followed the impulse to wander outside, pick up a basket and set myself to one quiet task.
There is something deeply restorative about working with your hands, tuning into the energy of a plant and allowing yourself, for a little while, to simply be.
