This book has been on my radar for a long time, since Andrew first dropped hints about his tree fascination years ago, so I didn’t realize I’d drawn up expectations for how he would approach the topic. I think I envisioned more metaphorical explorations of trees and gardening, drawing connections to life and Scripture, and with more of an all-around, tree-whispering hippy vibe.
But it wasn’t like that. And by now, I shouldn’t be surprised that instead, Andrew’s story brought me home— to the oaks and cedars and maples right here on Edgewood Road.
The God of the Garden tells Andrew’s story like a road that threads through a forest, meandering from one tree to the next (from the Big and Little Maples to the Thinking Tree, to name a few). He calls trees the “framework” for his story– the milemarkers.
And so the very real trees in his life overarch very real sorrows and dread and dreams he’s wrestled along the way. But they also tell a story that is more real, more true, more blossomingly beautiful than Warren Wood or even the moors and glades of England.
Because of that beauty, framed in a way that told the truth and brought me home, I give this book five stars.