They have magic, they can have magic gardens. It only makes sense.

Oleander glances at his pastry for a moment, as if this is a binary choice and not this pastry, but also a peach tart, and then begins wrapping the treat in a napkin. He isn't much one for running around all over the place, he was planning on sitting right here for at least another hour, but for fresh fruit-- yes. He reaches for his cane and draws himself up, coming to join this-- opinionated peach man.

"You've convinced me. I haven't been down to the ground yet, either."