The first garden I remember being aware of as more than just a planted yard was at the Philbrook Museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma, which I visited as a girl when it was still just the converted home of an oil baron, with a mummy in the sunroom and an Art Deco dancefloor that flashed colored lights, and its garden was the most beautiful space I'd ever seen outdoors.
It wasn't until I was grown that it occurred to me to wonder why there was an Italian villa on the Oklahoma prairie in the first place.
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