I've not kept a garden as an adult. I keep succulent plants like cacti or sansivierra, and sometimes plant a terrarium. I have a little plant lore, like my recollection that mustard greens grow quickly and easily, and the taste of fresh yellow crook-neck squash from someone's garden.
I remember our family getting produce from local people in the little town where I few up-squash or black-eyed peas or blackberries. I remember wild blackberry on the bush-like vines in the woodlands. I grew up near wetlands, so that one or two seasons of fresh watermelons arose, and cantaloupes reached a particular sweetness. Watery fruits and vegetables never tasted as good to me in southern California, as I imagined I could taste the chemicals used to farm them.
Lately I see men walking with canes, and I remember a man with a cane in white spats, walking into town That kind of memory leads to other memories, like the dogs Duke (a German Shepherd mix) and Tippy (a red dog with perhaps some setter in him) owned by our friend Ricky, down the street. Our dog was Sallie Mae, who one day went to live with our grandfather. She was very happy there, on his rural place; with hindsight, I guess she should have stayed with us.
It's not too late, perhaps, to start a little container garden, to grow beans and greens and things not long- seasoned. I doubt that I will plant anything, though--other than a terrarium. Our butterfly bush is in bloom.
The lantana is yet to come. I wish I knew more about the curious wasp-like butterfly that loves the lantana. I will read up on it tonight.
I do not know all that much about anything, but I trust the know-how that makes squash grow and marigolds bloom.