I began my love of plants when I was quite young. My grandmother would take me outside on the hot, humid and lush days of those beloved Michigan summers. She would hand me sunflower seeds, and we would plant them at the front steps. She would tell me which vines were poison ivy and I would be scared off with stories of oatmeal baths and rashes. The stray cats would weave in and out of my feet, begging for hugs and treats. I would gather the fallen walnuts and pile them up on
