Notes from my garden
Building beyond today
And I doubt that anyone who’s alive when the effort starts will live to see the end of it. —Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Talents
On my morning and evening walks, I get to see Eastern bluebirds, cardinals, blue jays, and yellow warblers. I delight in their birdsongs and playfulness.
Robins find themselves perched on bushes near my garden. Like me, maybe they are curious about what is to come.
I started my foray into gardening last year. How had I gone without?
It is incredibly rewarding to watch something go from seed to harvest to seed.
As rewarding as gardening is, it is work.
I was humbled and continue to be humbled, by the effort it takes to support the growth of things outside myself. Growing outside in the elements, my plants are exposed to all sorts of critters, and at times extreme weather like harsh heat or frigid cold. Things started to grow that I didn’t plant—like milkweed, grasses, and dandelions. Once I realized that much of gardening is pruning and removing things you do not want to grow, my weekly harvesting became pure joy. I still had to the work of removing weeds. A couple of months in, I got to enjoy sweet Russian kale, pungent daikon, and fresh dill. I was amazed by the flavor from my herbs and plants compared to those I became accustomed to buying at the grocery store. I had fun imagining all the ways I could use the leaves and roots from my harvest. My garden was doing so well that I even started growing a border of wheatgrass for juicing. I got to share my harvest with colleagues, family, and friends. Out of all my plants, the dill and daikon grew the most. I used fresh dill in almost everything—from falafel to dressings. I used the flavorful edible flowers from dill as garnish. I am enamored by the unique flavor profiles that come from growing your own food.
As I watch my seedlings starting to emerge and flowers bloom, I think back to all my garden has taught me:
Start where you are and when you can.
I purchased organic seeds from Peaceful Valley and purchased organic soil. I got a set of garden tools and plant tags. I planted my seeds directly in the soil and eagerly watered my garden. I did not have any grand expectations. I started gardening as a way to spend more time outside, to explore what growing my food could look like. I started late in the growing season, awaiting clearance from the community garden. Regardless of when I started, my plants started to grow exponentially in July and August.
Be patient.
Most plants can take 30 to 60 days to reach maturity. Patience was essential as I started gardening. I could not expect to harvest the next day or even the next week. I returned as often as I could to water, tend, and observe. It was a joy to discover new plants emerging and flowers blooming into vegetables. I grew one full eggplant that I treasured while I made baba ghanoush.
Discern between signal and noise.
As my plants started to grow large, I was excited and overjoyed. When I left town for a week, I returned to an overgrown garden with milkweed and tall grasses. It felt like a jungle. Everything was indiscernible. I was overwhelmed and devastated. I decided to approach the challenge systematically. I bought mulch and relied on the iNaturalist app to identify what was actually growing. I started to recognize patterns and identify the weeds quickly. I spent days going through and removing the weeds. Over time I started to see my garden take shape again. With the noise removed, my garden was restored.
Pruning and trimming provides opportunity for more.
As I started harvesting, I saw that picking stimulated more growth. Where I picked one leaf, several other offshoots would emerge. Growth can come from a clearing. Less is more.
I can feed myself.
In the late Summer and early Fall my salad greens were in full swing and my garden helped offset my grocery bill. I started to crave the sweet Russian kale from my garden in my salads and stir fry.
There is enough for everyone.
One of the most rewarding aspects of my garden was sharing my harvest. When I traveled home to NC, I brought my daikon root to juice with orange and pineapple for my family. It is an incredible digestive aid, and it felt that much sweeter knowing I grew it.
I can start again.
All of the plants I grew were annuals, meaning their entire life cycle occurs in one growing season. To maintain my garden this year, I literally had to start again. Having to plant from seed each year is humbling and also freeing. I am not constrained to do things the way I did last year. I can grow new things like sugar beets and calabaza. I can change where I plant everything. I can use my learnings to inform how, when, and why. Knowing I can start again (and sometimes must) was humbling to observe even in one growing season. With lettuce, you have to consistently plant throughout the season. If you just let it mature too long, the greens become stalkier and coarser. Lettuce is typically picked while the greens are young and tender.
On Tending
Last year, my plot in a community garden was tilled before the season ended and I wasn’t able to say goodbye and give thanks. I was not able to see my plants mature back to seed. To see a plant’s full life cycle from seed to harvest to seed is a miracle.
We are better together, gardening together, taking turns and sharing the effort, sharing the harvest.
From my garden,
Dr. A
Readings I return to in my kitchen
