I’ve always loved gardening. No, I’m going to take that a step further: I’ve always loved growing things. 

Growing things — as in flowers, vegetables, friendships, babies and kids, this column, faith, my marriage, knowledge, compassion, kindness and most importantly love. And more, of course. There is always more to grow.

I’ve learned many insider tips and tricks about growing things over the years. Today I realized I’m still learning.  

I’m in a new climate and meeting new neighbors. That’s a scenario ripe for learning potential.

This morning I was talking with a neighbor. She has numerous plants in her yard that are common in this region, but completely new to me. I asked her about a couple — whether they liked sun or shade, water requirements, whether they were finicky or easy to grow, and so on. 

“Oh, honey,” she said. “I just plant them. If they grow, they grow. If they don’t, they weren’t meant for my yard. They have to be happy to be here.”

I thought that was insightful and wise.

In my last house I had a large garden plot filled with shade. The owners before me planted roses. Rose plants thrive on sun and temperate winters. I had neither. 

However I did have am ample supply of small children at the time, which prevented me from treating my roses with the TLC they needed to survive in my yard.

So they perished. At the time, I thought: Any plant can grow in the sun. It takes something special to grow in the shade. 

I replaced the roses with hostas. Hostas are a common perennial in the cool, dark climates that favor them, but apparently they aren’t as widespread as I thought. My autocorrect wants to change the word to “hostess,” so apparently they haven’t even made their way into some dictionaries. 

For those unfamiliar, hostas are sort of leafy northern versions of large-leaved tropical plants. They typically grow in a round mound, with leaves flowing outward. They can be as small as six inches in diameter or as large as six feet — and just as tall (or short). Cultivars have come up with hundreds (and probably thousands) of named varieties. I believe I had close to 40 or 50 different strains in my backyard. 

It took years to build, and was one of the hardest things for me to leave when I sold my house. 

But, there were other gardens to grow.

I moved from a plot of ever-present shade and ever-present winter (or so it seemed) to ever-present sun and ever-present warmth. I’ve looked around and there isn’t a hosta to be found in my new environment.

Apparently growing hostas in my yard now would be akin to growing roses in my old plot. With that comes the realization: Not every plant likes the shade. It takes something special to grow in the sun.

Herein lies the wisdom of my new neighbor. Not everything can grow everywhere. Plants have to be happy in their environment. You can try forcing them, like the people who planted the roses at my old house, but it’s always going to be a battle against nature — against the order of things.

The same goes for people. Sometimes we find the right amount of shade and cool temperatures; other times we seek the sun. Both are good. Both can be good. 

Bottom line, we all get to figure out where we grow best. When it’s time to put down roots and when it’s time to replant and regrow — sunshine or shade or maybe even a little of both.

I’m not sure where that will take me, but for now, right here seems right, but I’m still learning. I hope I never stop.

— Jill Pertler’s column Slices of Life appears regularly in the Times. She can be reached at slicescolumn@gmail.com.