My brothers and I spent a good deal of our childhoods in the midst of remodeling work being done to our house. From new flooring, to repainted rooms, to a completely gutted kitchen, in the twelve years I lived at my childhood home, I don't remember a time when some part of it wasn't half-finished, blocked off by a sheet of translucent plastic. As a result, spent a lot of time in Lowe's buying paint, stain for the deck, planks of wood, cement, etc. etc.

It was during one of these Lowe's runs that I saw something that took root in my heart: a Venus flytrap. In a Lowe's. In an individual pot. Perfectly sized for little ten-year-old hands.

For those of you who don't know, Venus flytraps are carnivorous plants with a hinge-like jaw that they can close to catch and dissolve insects. And to a ten-year-old biology nerd, the thought of having one in my house was the coolest thing ever. (And for the record, it's still that cool.)

I begged and begged my mom to spend $3 on this tiny Venus flytrap for me, and she caved. So I got to cradle this plastic pot with one rosette of traps in it, carefully placing it on my windowsill at home. I doted on it, finding dead ants and flies to put in the traps, carefully watering it with a measuring cup. It lasted about two weeks before we went on a family vacation to Disney World, I forgot all about making plant-sitting arrangements, and I came home to a withered, dead stem.

Fast-forward about ten years to Oxford, England. I was still the same massive biology nerd (I've been told I'm a lot of fun on trips to the zoo and/or aquarium), and I desperately needed a nature fix. By some miracle, my friend Kayla and I stumbled upon (literally, got lost and randomly wound up there) Oxford University's Botanic Gardens.

There is something special about a place that's sole purpose is to nurture life. And there is something extra special about Oxford's Botanic Gardens. Maybe it was because the greenhouses, called glasshouses there, were so humid and warm, and we had been deprived of heat for so long. Or maybe it was because everything was green and alive, while everything outside was brown and dead for winter. Or maybe it was because inside, with not another soul in sight, surrounded by dangling vines and brilliant yellow flowers, it felt a little bit like we were in an actual jungle. Which, to a biology nerd, is very, very cool.