• IN THE GARDEN •
• FLOWERS IN THE DAHLIA DISPLAY •
• IN THE GREENHOUSES •
Life, with the garden
Location: Lyon, France • • • Visit: October 2018
Along my train journey from Stockholm to the conference in San Sebastian in October 2018, I had to change trains in Lyon. The wait for the Spain-bound train was a couple of hours, so I checked out the map and realized that the botanic garden was walking distance from the train station. Of course, I went.
Botanical garden of Lyon. There is something special about the stillness in a garden located in the middle of the city. The trees painted yellow by autumn, being reflected in the milky turquoise water of the lake. I can sense, more than hear, the bustle of the streets behind the trees – species I don’t know the names of – but here, the mist lies like a blanket over every sound. Only the hungry ducks take up any space in the soundscape.
This is one of those moments out of time.
The botanic garden lies in the Parc de la Tête d’Or in the center of Lyon. The park covers 117 hectares, and the botanic garden only makes up a small portion of that – but the variety of trees, shrubs and water bodies in the rest of the park makes it feel like an extension of the garden. More a display of the richness of plant life on Earth than an ordinary city park.
The main greenhouse very much reminded me of the one in Paris – a gorgeously antique steel structure from the outside, but not systematic enough on the inside for my botany-buff-taste. But, yes, it was very pretty to look at. The smaller greenhouses, though, spread out across the garden, were much nicer in that regard. I was particularly impressed by the generous collection of carnivorous plants. I always think they look alien, as if from a different planet – or at least from a distant and more violent time on Earth.
I bought a cup of coffee at the café by the lake. High-rises could be glimpsed behind the tree-crowns. It was like the knowledge of the bustle that was most likely going on beyond those high, yellow-edged trees across the lake only made the stillness under the trees more relaxing.
But what really took my breath away: The most impressive display of dahlias that I have ever seen. The color of those flowers! I have had a thing for dahlias this summer (2018), they had beds of these voluptuous flowers of Mexican origin in both the Bergius garden in Stockholm and in Visby – but nothing beats the Lyon extravagance.
My Finnish grandmother loved her dahlias. Her garden was gorgeous, both for the vegetables, berries and flowers, tended to with so much skill, joy and love up until her last summer in life. And I think the dahlias were her favorites in the flower beds – digging up the roots every autumn, keeping them snug and above freezing in pots filling the entire glass verandah over winter and then planting them again in spring. Whenever mom and I were headed to visit grandpa’s grave, she would give us a generous bouquet of white and deep purple dahlias to decorate it with. In her last ten years, she had trouble walking long distances and couldn’t get to the grave very often, but I think she felt like she was there, at the grave, in spirit through the dahlias that she had so lovingly tended to. I have recently felt a new fascination of dahlias, and I think my grandma the gardener might be at the root of it.
The only unpleasant part of the park was the zoo. It has been ages since I have been to one, but now, seeing the giraffes walk in circles out of boredom made me feel nauseous. And the capuchin and spider monkeys in their cages just sitting there, staring. I am sure they are as well cared for as animals in captivity can be. I just do not think that wild animals should be kept in tight spaces like that.
But if I forget about the zoo, and only focus on the park and the garden, it is a marvelous place. Lyon really has a botanical garden to be proud of.
Katja Malmborg 