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Flowers shaped some of my happiest childhood memories, even though I never developed a talent for growing them.

The first were a ragtag patch of irises beside my childhood home. No one planted or tended them, yet they returned with violet blossoms—still one of my favorite colors—and multiple blooms on each stalk.

Every spring and summer, my friend Susie and I picked clover and linked the stems into elaborate chains. We wore our creations as bracelets and necklaces.

Spirea bushes flanked our front door, producing a white waterfall of flowers each spring. We sometimes cut branches for indoor vases. When storms arrived, loose blossoms scattered through the wind like white confetti.

Honeysuckle was my favorite. Its spring fragrance was irresistible, but the flowers offered another reward. We pinched off the end of a blossom and slowly pulled out the stamen, revealing a tiny pearl of nectar as sweet as store-bought honey. The bees were equally enthusiastic.

At the end of first grade, our teacher, Mrs. Ray, took the class to her country home and led us through a field of wildflowers. We saw Dutchman’s breeches, jack-in-the-pulpit, lady’s purse and bleeding heart. I fell in love with them and can still recognize each one. Better yet for an inept gardener, wildflowers largely take care of themselves.

Years later, our first home in Arlington came with an overgrown yard and crowded clumps of daffodils that could no longer bloom. My husband spent a hot, exhausting day digging up all 33 pounds of bulbs so they could be replanted in the fall.

They never got that chance. I stored them incorrectly and accidentally killed the entire collection.

That disaster taught me to leave the volunteer daylilies alone. Their bright orange flowers opened every June, bringing a flamboyant splash of color to the yard. My hands-off policy succeeded: They survived our ownership, perhaps with a collective sigh of relief when we moved away.

My old-school upbringing may not have included gardening lessons, but a black thumb has never stopped me from enjoying flowers.