Six months ago I unwittingly undertook the responsibility to turn 240 square feet of earth into a productive and (fingers crossed) edible garden. Actually, to call the plot I received ‘earth’ is a bit of a stretch. It wasn’t until after I removed a pile of 15-foot poles, dug up railroad stakes, a pitsaw, the grate for a grill, and barbed wire enforced fencing that it began to resemble ‘earth.’ Another four hours of uprooting 240 square feet of watercress revealed a treasure trove of, admittedly dense, clay-like soil - but it held the promise of a bountiful crop.
Up to that point, my gardening experiences were vague memories of the vegetable patch my parents kept during my pre-teen years (a period in my life when I refused to participate in outdoor activities), and one reading of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. In the next few months, I was inundated with differing opinions about the best conditions for cucurbits, pH balances in the soil, organic solutions to weed control, how to effectively slaughter a snail (that’s right, slaughter is the only word for what I do to them), and the details of companion planting, such as the Native American triumvirate: corn, squash, beans.
Luckily, I took on a partner, fellow blogger Danny Jensen, and we blundered our way through the process of sowing and tending our young seeds. The corn shot up. The beans refused to budge. The cucumbers spread. The lettuce bolted. The peppers were carried away by the winds. We devoted time and effort to each seed. In the case of the peppers, we carefully thought out each step of our approach…to no avail!
Gardening, it would seem, is a process of failures and successes. Some of what we plant thrives, and some dies. I quickly became aware that I’d grown to appreciate the individual lives of each seedling–primarily because they compelled me to accept that, though each was of infinite value to me, they were also of definite impermanence.
Now, as the cucumbers form on their vines and the tarragon spreads, uprooting everything and anything in its path, I’m thrilled to see the results of our efforts. Danny and I have pretty much resigned ourselves to the ’see where the cards fall’ approach; we learn as we go and apply what we know.
Gardening helps to instill an appreciation for the complexities of our earth and its significant ability to provide for us. There are so many opportunities to get involved! Join a community garden near you, or just offer to volunteer. If you have a backyard, a porch or even a windowsill, begin with some low maintenance herbs and tomatoes, and enjoy!
