Step slowly along the stone path, brushing against giant ferns dotted with raindrops. Birds chirp. Yellow-tipped red heliconia hang in origami folds. Calm envelops as only a fragrant floral embrace can.

This is the lovely Hunte’s Gardens on the island of Barbados. It is a feast for the senses and a popular stop on Caribbean cruise itineraries.

Horticulturalist Anthony Hunte transformed a gully on the north side of the island into what many call “the most enchanting place on Earth.”

Piano music propels you along passageways flanked with greenery, ending in bubbling fountains and whimsical garden statues. Together, it is a tapestry of sights, sounds and fragrance. When you’re done oohing and awing, relax on the veranda with a glass of ginger lemonade.

Though it is impossible to preserve the moment or recreate the magic — U.S. Customs does not allow you bring back plants or seeds — photographs and videos can help you relive the tranquility and genius of a master gardener’s vision.

Some people collect stamps, some collect toys, some collect things they think will someday make them rich.

My husband and I collect gardens.

Not in the sense that we pick up someone else’s little piece of heaven and transport it to our backyard, but rather we visit, inhale, immerse ourselves in the splendor and ingenuity, and let memories and photographs be our souvenirs.

We also like to think we collect gardening ideas but I fear our backyard does not reflect that. For us, gardening is a work in progress, a labor of love at which we will never be quite proficient. But that’s OK, because a garden is proof you can love a task without hope of mastering it.In addition to Hunte’s Gardens in Barbados, we have strolled through Monet’s Gardens in Giverny, France, which served as an inspiration for much of the artist’s work.

We have marveled at the rambling Vatican Gardens in Rome and sat for a spell in the Jardin du Luxembourg in Paris.

On the island of Kaui, we spent a morning at Hanalei Beach and then struggled to find a parking spot at Haena State Park. As we wandered along the north coast, we chanced upon a stunning discovery: Limahuli Garden and Preserve.

I have never been to the South Pacific but surely this must be what it looks like, smells like, feels like. We learned so much about Hawaiian history and flora, and literally could not stop photographing the gorgeous vistas.

On that same trip, we hopped a flight to Maui and spent a day careening the crazy, whiplash Road to Hana. At one of the turns, we spied a sign for the Garden of Eden and abruptly veered right. The soft, quiet, leafy entrance quickly gave way to a towering display of beauty overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Clusters of magnificent blooms — orange hibiscus and pink Medinilla — burst against the dark green foliage. The panoramic views that cut through the greenscape are featured in the movie “Jurassic Park.”

Surely, we thought, this is what heaven must look like.

Until we visited the Alhambra Palace in Granada, Spain, a few years later.

Inside the gates of this marvel of Islamic and Christian architecture is the Generalife gardens, translated by our guide as The Garden of Heaven. Roses, orange trees, ivy and magnolia bushes are the framework for soft and peaceful pools and fountains. Everywhere are mathematical wonders of tilework. The gardens, we were told, are symbolic of God’s reward for living a just life — calm, peaceful, lovely.

Closer to home, we have spent hours walking along the tulip gardens in downtown Chicago. Just when you think the city’s skyline can’t be any prettier, along comes May and voila, it is framed in yellows, oranges, purples and pinks.

We also have visited the Botanic Garden in Glencoe and Lurie Garden, Lincoln Park Conservatory, the Morton Arboretum and Jackson Park’s Japanese Garden.

At our home, we have installed a vegetable, railroad, perennial and memory garden. All keep us challenged all season long.

We have been fortunate to travel a bit which has provided us the opportunity to admire the handiwork of those blessed with a green thumb and unbridled vision. I admire the determination and old-fashioned sweat that goes into turning a plain, ordinary space into a something of wonder. Gardening is hard work. There is pain, loss and disappointment.

But when it works, it sings.

And we can’t help but heed the sirens.

We’ve been to Epcot during the Flower and Garden Show.

After touring Highclere Castle (where “Downton Abbey” was filmed) in Newbury, England, we wandered through the Secret Garden, a lovely walled English escape, bursting with white and purple flowers.

And, last summer, before embarking on a cruise to Alaska, we stopped by the fascinating Chihuly Glass Museum, which includes an outdoor sculpture garden, where the artist’s talent meets Mother Nature’s framework.

We realized long ago that no one, not even our children, value someone else’s collections, at least not to the extent that they want to “inherit” them after we are gone.

A collection is special only to the person doing the collecting. Sure, in the case of toys or coins, it might gain some monetary value but its heartstrings are firmly attached to the hunter-gatherer.

And that’s OK. I don’t expect my children to embrace the same passions I do. I don’t want them to finish what I started. What I do hope for, more than anything, is that they develop pursuits that encourage them to imagine and dream, and then lose themselves in the drive to bring those passions forward.

Everyone deserves the opportunity to experience flow. It is how mere seedlings bloom into works of art.

Donna Vickroy is an award-winning reporter, editor and columnist who worked for the Daily Southtown for 38 years. She can be reached at donnavickroy4@gmail.com.