Here’s my herb garden, mostly in pots. In the cart top shelf, from left to right, Italian oregano, chives in back, rosemary in front, Genovese basil. On the bottom shelf, marjoram, and thyme. Baby red potatoes are in the bucket on the left, with fairies hovering in case someone from the HOA makes an unexpected visit. Below the potatoes is a red gerbera daisy, and above it is Icelandic poppy. French tarragon is below the poppy, followed by a hybrid Italian/Greek oregano. Purple Angelonia just above the moisture meter, variegated sage that might be perennial, more French tarragon with Winter thyme in front of it, and lovage behind it. In the blue pot is one shishito pepper plant with some annuals sharing it. Garlic chives and blue-eyed grass in front of that, and finally lemon verbena to round out my little slice of heaven. I know it’s tight in there, and will get tighter as things grow. Almost all of this has been harvested at least once, if not many more times. I wish I had more space, but I don’t.
There’s just “something” about herbs. They’re easy to grow for the most part - not finicky or temperamental. There’s a subtle ‘power’ in the leaves (flowers sometimes, too) either medicinal or culinary and more often than not, both. A naturopath I follow says ‘God put everything on this earth we need to heal our bodies’ and herbs are a big part of that “everything”. Maybe that connection is why I love them so.
I think I mentioned it before, but the lettering on the inside of the little birdbath in my herb garden says “His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me”. I love the reminder.
If you’re inclined to go ‘deeper’ on that thought, here’s a good discussion: