The change

I spent a long time just standing in the garden Sunday morning, walking from one corner to the other, following the path from east to west and back again, wondering what was it that didn't feel right. The mild neglect was showing in the weeds and the obscured paths, but so too was the care in the marigold blooms and tall salvias. It was well planted, but bare in spots; tended in some places, overgrown in others. The garden seemed fractured, as if it was no longer either contained by or able to fill its own borders or the needs of WeMoon Spirit. As I stood there, I wondered if anyone had lately walked through the garden, and if so, what thoughts did their meander evoke? I got the distinct feeling that the garden had not been well-used in quite a while.

It was always the intention of the garden to invite women to connect with the Earth through sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste. The first plants were edible, fragrant herbs, and the paths were lovingly set out in curvy, organic lines; the idea was to bring peace of mind and joy of spirit to the women who worked, walked, and sat there.

So I began pulling up bottles and setting them out anew. I turned the compost pile, taking the chocolate-cake earth from the bottom and adding it to the beds while burying layers of green folliage and pine needles and sticks in its place. I pruned and pulled up and planted and moved around until something started to change.
My breath seemed to draw deeper; my arms and legs felt stretched and warm; my feet moved about easily, as if trodding by feel instead of sight. The path and experience that were so elusive when I first arrived began to emerge in my mind, my body, and the garden.

It had been a few moons since I'd spent any real time there, and I can't yet say when I'll again be able to dedicate the time it needs. But in recognizing and working with the Spirit of the Spirit Garden, I felt in myself something stir.

And the garden grows...

I headed over to Native Nurseries today to check out their Organic Day workshops; saw a few friends—Herman and Louise of Turkey Hill Farm and Cynthia at Ladybird Organics—and a couple of faces I didn’t know. This latter fact made me the most happy, as it seems that the organic movement, though more complicated now than it was ten years ago, is gaining converts at an amazing rate.

I bought a couple of new plants for the Spirit Garden, too—an O’Toole’s Anise Hyssop and a red Bee Balm. They’re both spring and summer bloomers, and so are at the end of their showy cycle, but they are also both perennials, and so will hopefully just make themselves happy in the garden for the long term. I made a kind of mental note last year to start thinking long-term for the garden when I realized that it was pretty hard to maintain annuals and vegetables without a continuous presence. The herbs and flowers that are there now seem to really make sense.

I put the two new plants in the long bed near the main path, which is pretty near full now. I was thinking of starting some nasturtiums to fill in here and there though (because what WOULD I do without my favorite cool weather lovely?).

connection

I have been spending time in the garden for the past couple of weeks. A little bit at a time. Weeding and watering and just being there feeling her energy. Its such a blessing that we have this beautiful space there with to remind us of our connection to the earth and how much she provides for us.

I arrived yesterday and knew instantly Teresa had been there working hard that morning. So many weeds were gone and two beds were cleared. It was really exciting to see. While Teresa was out working hard I had been visiting the Turkey Hill folks at the farmers market to get some baby broccoli spouts for our garden. I was hoping to get some chard as well but it wasn't there yet. I headed over to Native nurseries as well and got a few herbs to add to the garden as well.

In the last week I have added some flowing sages and lemon balm. Yesterday I added a stevia plant, pineapple sage and some marigolds. I also planted the broccoli sprouts.

I love being able to add my energy to this amazing space and be able to see the results of the women who have been working in it. Its an amazing wondrous thing.

Welcome, fall

What became of summer in the Spirit Garden?, you might ask. Well, it was hot and sticky, and very few (but a couple) of our summer vegetables produced. The garden did not get as much love and attention as she deserved, though a handful of women worked steadily and with great care to keep her living things living. But this morning, while at the garden, I noticed the changing season in the air and felt that perhaps things would be turning again.

Sandi’s own spirit has been infused into the garden frequently and with beautiful results these past couple of weeks—you’ll notice several pretty new plants (including three lovely blooming sages), fewer weeds, and more mulch, all thanks to her. It never fails to surprise me how quickly and graciously the garden responds to such favors. Even if I hadn’t known Sandi had been there, I would have “known;” gardens, I think, are just like that.

I spent my hour and a half weeding with gusto; although there remains much unplanted material to pull and add to the compost pile, it felt great to be out there bending and stretching and walking with purpose. It also felt great to be back, knowing that we are entering my very favorite gardening season.

Welcome, fall. I feel and see good things coming…

Pictures of May

I think May is our best month in the Spirit Gardens. Although we had an early visit from army worms this year, our relocation program (removing them by hand to the far reaches of the property) seems to have suited them fine. And the rain coupled with cool mornings and evenings has given many of our new additions time to adapt and make themselves comfortable.



Here is a picture taken in late April. Notice the squash plants in the foreground, with their second set of true leaves, just beginning to crawl.



And here, just two weeks later! Squash is such an impressive plant, with it's huge, hairy leaves, big hollow stalks, and crepey yellow-orange flowers.



Before we even got a change to miss having little tomatoes around, they sprouted themselves from the compost pile. Some of you may remember that last year we lost a good deal of the crop to aforementioned army worms, and apparently our pile didn't get hot enough to cook those half-eaten fruits' seeds. I present to you the tenacious Silvery Fur Tree bush tomato...



Ms. Anna's glorious garden shed, almost complete. You can see in the one corner there's just a bit of concrete and mortar left to pour between the urbanite blocks, and along the back wall a few more boards to tack up. Then it will be a functioning lean-to, and will become a shed when we get around to making the front wall. These things take time.



Swiss Chard. Can't be beat. He's presently sharing a bed with creeping thyme and cinnamon basil.



And just to show that we're not ALL business, a coleus, for beauty. (He is nestled between catnip, for tea, and milkweed and parsley for the butterflies, though; gardens must be USEFUL you know...)



Finally, a last look, as you're leaving the garden, heading back through the arches. You can even see my son's little foot in the lower left-hand corner. Patient boy, waiting in the shade, watching the bees and butterflies and wind in the trees as I putter.

Gracias por las gotas!

Blessed, blessed rains and the gray skies that brought them! We went right past spring and into summer, it seems, and the precipitation took a little while to catch up to the heat. But it has certainly made things interesting in the garden. The astors and the mint are threatening to fill in the spiral, and the squash, cucs, melon, and tomatoes have grown several inches in just a week. But, the worst of the worst news, we have army worms. Army worms decimated our tomato crop last year and made things very unpleasant to touch and look at. At the moment they're doing bad things to the English marigolds. We're investigating their destruction.

And today I went to the Growers Market at Lake Ella, and with the $20 that Janis donated to the garden for flowers, bought some really beautiful ones to plant among the sunflowers behind the hoop. I also bought lemon and cinnamon basil and orange and creeping thyme. I did manage to get them into the ground before those big late-afternoon raindrops sent me and Woody for cover (in Spanish, those big drops get their own word--gotas!). So we may stop by again before the end of the week to get the flowers planted up.