In this Madrid 'museum,' every masterpiece is green

The garden is open year-round. While every season has its delights, May to August are particularly resplendent, as thousands of wild and cultivated roses from around the world bloom profusely.

Towering above them are the garden's magnificent trees. Among the lemon, lime, orange, palmetto, and apple varieties are hundreds more from a myriad of cultures and climates. Some have survived the Peninsular War (1808-14) and Spain's Civil War (1936-39).

Madrid, which is said to have more trees than any other big city except Tokyo, maintains a list of hundreds of Singular Trees of the Community of Madrid, which are outstanding for their bearing, history, and age.

I had never expected to see a pomegranate tree in Madrid. But there it was, 200 years old, 23 feet high, and sprouting fresh leaves when I encountered it at the end of a path. Equally exotic was a 75-year-old Japanese raisin tree that captivated me with its graceful bearing.

Towering above both was a 130-foot Caucasian elm. Each time I saw this native of the Caucasus, I marveled at its oval symmetry, conveyed by long, leafy branches soaring from a short trunk. Beside it was a Chilean Quillaja saponaria (soapbark tree). Gazing at them, I felt like a privileged traveler on a round-the-world botanic adventure.

A cypress - estimated to be 220 to 240 years old - is the oldest tree in the garden. It may have been here before the garden was established in this spot in 1774.

Beyond the dazzling flowers on the first terrace were kiwi vines and raspberry bushes, just emerging from their winter respites, plus vegetable patches and scores of herbal plants.

In 1755, King Ferdinand VI commissioned his botanist-surgeon, Jose Quer, to create the garden as a center for botanic studies and to grow medicinal plants for him and his subjects.

The garden was originally on the banks of the Manzanares River, south of Madrid, until 1774, when King Charles III bought land on Paseo del Prado and moved it for easier access. From its inception, the garden was open to the public.

Although the royal family no longer owns the garden, they attend important ceremonies and enter and exit through the King's Gate on the Paseo.

On the second terrace, among statues of distinguished 18th- and 19th-century botanists, are plants representing 12 evolutionary schools of plant life from the prehistoric era to the present.

The third terrace, designed as a classic romantic garden, became our favorite lunch spot. Toting bags of food, we'd make our way to the wooden benches around a small duck pond with a dignified bust of Carl Linnaeus, known as the father of botany, in its center. "Background music" was provided by doves and magpies.

I grew fond of these picnics - and the Royal Botanical Garden - but our vacation was coming to an end. Our final visit was on a Friday in mid-April.

A cool rain had intensified the garden's vivid hues and fragrances. The olive trees were sprouting new leaves; the wisteria was spreading rampantly onto a linden tree; and more pink blooms were apparent on the Himalayan clematis.

Walking through the gate, I sadly realized I wouldn't be back for a while, and thought of T.S. Eliot's line from "The Waste Land": "April is the cruellest month."

• The Royal Botanical Garden (Real Jardin Botanico) is at 2 Plaza de Murillo, Madrid 28014; Phone: 011 34 91 420 30 17; www.rjb.csic.es (in Spanish only).

Page: 1 | 2