One summer morning, Dominique Browning, editor in chief of House and Garden, strolled into her half-acre suburban garden, coffee cup in hand. A bad storm had passed through during the night, splattering mud and uprooting plants.

Then, before her eyes, a concrete retaining wall crashed onto her beloved back bed, crushing 15 years worth of tender care along with every shrub, flower and piece of statuary.

It was, she thought, symbolic. Her husband, her "true love," was in the process of leaving her and their two sons. She recounts the rebuilding of her garden and her life in "Paths of Desire" (Scribner, $12 paperback), a celebration of the restorative powers of dirt, trowels and pruning shears.

Browning believes that "desire paths" are the ways we move from one place to another. Her own desire paths are the meandering, tangible path in her renewed garden and her metaphorical path — often equally indirect — from despair to joy.

She writes, "The most important part of what a garden does lies in the mysterious, subtle, nearly ineffable but heartfelt ways it stirs you to the depths of your soul."