Borders!

I have been away from the garden for two weeks, so imagine my surprise when I returned to a beautiful lariope border on the north side of the garden path, and a line of lush garlic chives marking the south side. Anna, Paty, and Bonny have been busy!! Check out this picture, taken from the east parking lot on October 23:



That's Bonny just beginning the garlic chive border. Doesn't the dappled sun, whimsical arch, and winding path just make you want to jump into the photograph? I have this vision of the garden in fairy-tale splendor, and each little seed and donated plant brings the reality of that vision that much closer.

So this morning we

• began a society garlic border along the south edge of the garden, next to the bottle wall;
• weeded and thinned out the seedlings in the crescent moon bed;
• surrounded that bed with half-buried bottles to really make the border stand out (and because it looks way cool);
• planted a few more nasturtiums and a little section of calendula;
• de-snakerooted and covered a big chunk of the spiral;
• watered;
• weeded;
• gabbed;
• talked politics;
• and told jokes (weeding with Eleanor was a treat -- she has a handful of good ones!).

If you happen to be driving by in the next week, stop by and spend a few minutes in the "before" garden -- it's cheery and optimistic, even in its pauciy. And come by Saturday, November 6, for our next womanfiestation. (Haha -- that was supposed to be "womanifestation," but I like that "fiesta" is in the middle of the typo -- we'll keep it ;)! )

The Process of Gardening

I was conscious today of the fact that what we are doing right now is not the fun part. It is the hot, hard, dirty part. It is the part that puts blisters on your thumbs and grime under your fingernails and gives you a stiff back the morning after. Today, as I pulled up the sixty-fourth snake root tuber, hit yet another patch of thick camphor root, and noticed that a few weeds had already sprouted in the beds we turned (but did not cover) last week, I felt discouraged, like I was working against nature instead of for or with nature. It was a good time to pause, get a drink, and remember just why I was out there in the dirt.

Anna and I started talking about it, and she said that she believes that gardening is a physical as well as mental process, and one which you undertake with the intention of being steadfast. Gardening, for her, is akin to deciding to take the best care you can of your body: discipline and consistency really count.

That metaphor really made it click for me.

Like practicing healthy eating habits and exercising, the fact that gardening is difficult and ongoing is a given. Also, the results are seldom exactly what you pictured, so you have to be willing to love your intention and your learning process as much as the body or garden you end up with.

Does this make me love the snake root? Not exactly. It makes me love that I am there, in the present, combing the earth for the snake root, removing it, and readying the soil to receive native plants. It makes me love that I now know the difference between three different kinds of earth worms, that I have become brave enough touch grubs, and that the muscles in my arms feel firmer than they did three weeks ago.

This perspective allows me to access the positivism that had gotten a bit lost earlier: I am keeping the idea that what I do matters. It matters to me that butterflies and birds are invited back into our everydays. It matters to me that women who come after me have a place to wander through, thinking and feeling about our earth and its creations. It matters to me that the ground I prepare now might be tended and loved and considered by other women, who may arrive at their own conclusions about their experiences. It matters, for me and for the garden, that I am steadfastly trying to do good work and put good energy into the earth and the air around me.

And because it matters, I can pick my trowel back up and make a little promise to myself that I will be coming back to this garden, back to this mindset, and back to this process, for many Saturdays in the future.