I think it’s often said in rooms of intellectuals or pseudo-intellectuals, in my head they’re sipping tea or smoking cigars and wearing tweed and flat caps, that if the ambitions of so few were as great as the ambitions of even fewer, then the world would be a place of more peaceful grandeur. At least this is what I’d like to hope is the truth (that these tweeded-out intellects are actually thinking these thoughts while what they are thinking harbors an ounce of truth). And what I mean by this babble is that if only those with the power or wealth had the desire and drive that those truly altruistic and ambitious persons had, then this world would likely be a much more beautiful veranda. With this thought in mind I look towards the work of one of these individuals. Now I do not wish to idolize this man beyond what he is, and that is a chemist with a passion for nature and conservation. Yes I’m sure Pierre Du Pont was no saint, but he did have a love for the realm of nature and the cultivation of life. So as I walk the Eden he constructed in Kennett Square Pennsylvania, I am grateful that a man of such wealth could also have a lust for preservation. This Eden, and by no means do I believe that Eden is an exaggeration for the description of Longwood Gardens, is over 1000 acres and houses one of the largest conservatories in the world. Home to over 5,500 types of plants, there is room for days of exploration and education once within the gardens. The sole desire for its original purchase was so that Mr. Du Pont could protect the arboretum on the land from the sale to a logging company. Then owning such a huge farm, the Du Pont’s took to cultivating the land into a public garden, one filled with inspiration from all over the world.

Once a year it seems, my family makes a pilgrimage to these commons. We usually go around the holidays to marvel at the lights and trees ornately and meticulously decorated, an arduous task I assume. This year’s theme was that of gingerbread, and trees twenty to thirty feet high were covered with lacquered gingerbread ornaments. Rooms smelling rich of dried citrus, cranberry, and fresh evergreen, were all dressed for the festivities and the eager eyes of children and adults alike. A vast landscape aglow in the night, weeping willows lit like fireworks frozen in the sky. These grounds and this conservatory are one of the finest areas to escape the anthropic northeast, a place where fantastical landscapes meet reality. And we owe this escape, and this amazing botanical extravaganza to Mr. Du Pont, and for that I am grateful.