I am home. I arrived back from the west coast at the end of last week. I called my mother early in the morning from Logan Airport and we started right in discussing compost piles, weed problems, garden beds—I could feel dirt under my fingernails as we spoke. For this year I am living with my mother and our cat, Goldie, in the house where I was born and grew up, on the land where I came to know life and seasons, mountains and woods, and the sense of presence in place.
All winter I’ve been dreaming about the vegetable garden I’d have here on the hill this summer. Over the winter months, while I mostly lay low and rested, the garden became bigger and bigger in my imagination. I was planting enough to give us food all winter. I was building a root cellar. I’d started additional gardens on other land in the neighborhood. I have no shortage of ideas and excitement, but I do have a shortage of time and energy. My back has been hurting enough I’m not sure how I’m going to even turn a few beds just to get planting started.
So I’ve clarified my enthusiasm and priorities. What I want as much as all the vegetables in the neighborhood is to be in the garden without rush, to pay careful attention to what is growing in the beds (weed and cultivated plant alike), and to have time to also be with what is growing outside the garden—in the field, in the woods, along side the brook. I want to get to know the details of this hill that has nurtured and held me all my life.
So, the plan is to not garden beyond the hill, to stay within the bounds of the small vegetable beds already established, and to work on getting to know (while vigorously trying to get rid of) the immense amount of Japanese Knotweed on the property. I’ll be sharing my garden with all of you in pictures and posts throughout the season (today’s picture is off this weekends snow blanketing my garlic patch!). And I hope you will share with me your garden dreams and life in the dirt.
When I want to connect with a community of hard working home vegetable gardens who are planting, harvesting, preserving, storing food at a pace I’ll never keep up with, I either go visit a local farmer’s market or I read Sharon Astyk’s amazing blog that covers not only abundant gardening but also abundant living in a world of change.
What are you planting in your heart or garden?
All winter I’ve been dreaming about the vegetable garden I’d have here on the hill this summer. Over the winter months, while I mostly lay low and rested, the garden became bigger and bigger in my imagination. I was planting enough to give us food all winter. I was building a root cellar. I’d started additional gardens on other land in the neighborhood. I have no shortage of ideas and excitement, but I do have a shortage of time and energy. My back has been hurting enough I’m not sure how I’m going to even turn a few beds just to get planting started.
So I’ve clarified my enthusiasm and priorities. What I want as much as all the vegetables in the neighborhood is to be in the garden without rush, to pay careful attention to what is growing in the beds (weed and cultivated plant alike), and to have time to also be with what is growing outside the garden—in the field, in the woods, along side the brook. I want to get to know the details of this hill that has nurtured and held me all my life.
So, the plan is to not garden beyond the hill, to stay within the bounds of the small vegetable beds already established, and to work on getting to know (while vigorously trying to get rid of) the immense amount of Japanese Knotweed on the property. I’ll be sharing my garden with all of you in pictures and posts throughout the season (today’s picture is off this weekends snow blanketing my garlic patch!). And I hope you will share with me your garden dreams and life in the dirt.
When I want to connect with a community of hard working home vegetable gardens who are planting, harvesting, preserving, storing food at a pace I’ll never keep up with, I either go visit a local farmer’s market or I read Sharon Astyk’s amazing blog that covers not only abundant gardening but also abundant living in a world of change.
What are you planting in your heart or garden?
