Slice of Life: Tiptoe Through the Tulips At Your Own Risk

Last year we bought an annual pass to the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx. Our nine-year-old son loves the outdoors and science in equal measure, so it’s a treat for my former botanist husband to give him lessons on plant life as we stroll through. So far we’ve seen the fall foliage, the heralded Holiday Train Show, and the spectacular tulips, azaleas, and magnolia and cherry trees of spring. However, after our third visit last weekend, we realize the NY Botanical Garden has managed to achieve the unachievable: making their visitors feel confined amid 250 acres.

We refer to it as the zoo for gardens for its extreme look, don’t touch attitude. After all, why would they want us to experience the natural environment all around us when we can stick to the concrete paths? Why would they want to foster an interconnection between people and nature when they can spend the entire day telling us to stay off the grass and only smell the flowers that emit a fragrance from a safe distance of at least three feet?

Maybe I exaggerate…but just a little.

My son was longing to climb a couple of giant boulders and asked if he could do so. I, of course, said yes, only to hear a few moments later from somewhere unknown a bellow to “Get off the rocks!” I felt like Dorothy Gale, the small and meek, when the Great and Powerful Oz was berating her for daring to stand before him. He got off the rocks, knowing that the many footprints on that boulder may speed up its erosion to under a million years, and we wouldn’t want that. But it wasn’t just us being targeted. Oz could be heard intermittently shouting at people of all ages to get off the grass.

The amount of visitors the NYBG gets – 800,000 annually – makes rules necessary to maintain its beauty. After all, who wants to pay to see trampled tulips? So yes, stay off the flowerbeds. Don’t climb the trees. Don’t let your children wade into the water. Don’t litter. Ok. But surely within their 250 acres, they could have green spaces for visitors to do more than look longingly from afar. We had brought a lunch; envisioning picnicking with the grass beneath our bare feet, but that was not to be. There was one designated picnic area, tables and chairs only, so people would eat like civilized city folk. Our boy begged us to let him feel the grass between his toes. No son, why would you think that would be allowed here, out of doors?

Although we enjoyed our spring afternoon, the Garden captivity atmosphere came to a head at the end of our visit. There was a maze sculpture in front of the conservatory. There are two openings in the hedges to access it, as well as a wide staircase leading down to it. I stayed back taking photos while my husband and our son walked towards the structure. As our son started through the maze, again we heard shouts from the Great and Powerful. This time, however, he emerged from behind the curtain to run towards the maze as he continued yelling at our son to get out. I mean really yelling, as if our son had started spray painting it. I could hear him from where I stood some fifteen yards away. Our son immediately ran over to his dad, frightened and unsure of what he had done wrong. From this point on, I didn’t hear the conversation between my husband and the employee, but I didn’t have to. My husband’s hand gestures were enough to know that he was going a little New York on the guy. The sign in front of the maze sculpture read: Do Not Climb the Sculpture. There was no climbing. And did I mention it was a maze.

After we got to our car, I tried to do damage control, letting our son know that he did nothing wrong, but that maybe daddy could’ve handled that a little more calmly.

“That was calmly,” my husband said. “I’m from New York.”

Because I was secretly happy that he had told the guy off, I conceded by telling our son that he should always let us handle it as he did, and he should never speak to an adult like that.

He said, “Oh, I wouldn’t.” Pause. “But I did smile while Dad was chewing him out.”

Oh, boy. I guess he got more than a botany lesson this time.