There are discoveries that do not arrive through thought, but through life itself. One believes to have made a practical decision (to plant, to design, to arrange…) only to find, with time, that what seemed improvised was in fact responding to something that preceded us: the “spirit of the place”.
This is what has happened with our garden of dye plants at ÁBBATTE, which has gradually revealed certain traits in common with the gardens of Classical Greece.
In Ancient Greece, the garden was not an ornamental space, as it would become in Rome or Persia. It was not conceived to display wealth or to offer aesthetic pleasure. The garden was a place for reflection, for the exchange of ideas, for an attentive relationship with nature, and a space for learning.
The great philosophical schools of ancient Greece, such as the Academy and the Lyceum, grew out of gardens. Most renowned of all was Epicurus’ “Garden”, where he taught his disciples a way of life grounded in simplicity, balance and friendship.
The garden at ÁBBATTE, established where the monastery’s vegetable plot once lay, has above all a didactic purpose: to reveal a lesser-known gift of plants, their power to yield colour. Here we study the plants that have been used throughout history for dyeing, select those that thrive at this altitude, and extract some pigments with which to dye our yarns. The colours that emerge from these plants are not simply the result of a technique; they are a lesson in time, in care, and in the art of allowing things to unfold at their own pace.
The Greeks spoke of living in harmony with nature. To them, virtue meant aligning oneself with the natural order. Wisdom was knowing when to intervene and when to observe. When to act, and when to allow things to be.
In this sense, the garden becomes a mirror. We do not only cultivate plants; in some way, we also cultivate ourselves. We learn to look differently. To understand that the most valuable gifts are revealed to those who know how to listen to a place.
Elena Goded,
Founder of ÁBBATTE
PS. The book Jardinosofía (loosely translated as Gardenosophy: A Philosophical History of Gardens) by Santiago Beruete has been not only a delight, but also deeply illuminating.
