So how is your garden growing?
I’d like to hear from readers about what they plant and about the pleasures they derive from gardening and from eating what they produce. That was one reason for writing Waiting for Coyote’s Call, to open a conversation about ways to live sustainably on our good Earth.
Norma and I have our seeds and plants in the ground, rain fell on Friday, and today the sun is bright. Okra, pumpkins, cantaloupes, cucumbers, beans, corn and acorn, crook-neck and zucchini squash have yet to make their appearance, but green stripes mark rows of potatoes, onions, lettuce and spinach, and close examination reveals the first shoots of carrots, beets, peas and Swiss chard. Seventy-five bedding plants, including eggplants, six varieties of tomatoes and five kinds of peppers are thriving. Now comes the hard part: waiting for the first taste of greens.
As all gardeners know, growing vegetables involves process, tradition, hard work and fun. If we are lucky, we gain certain knowledge and skills from a parent. In my case, I gardened with my mother from the age of five. At 88, she still visits her garden every day. For those who did not grow up with a master gardener, a vast array of books, neighbors and the internet offer advice. But the best teacher is Nature herself. Some of us have learned the hard way, for example, not to set out tender tomato and pepper plants too soon, when the last frost of the season may still be lurking in the Rockies. And if we are attentive, we learn from our soil what grows best one place or another, and what supplements or special care the soil might need.
A sign of healthy soil, recognized by every organic farmer or gardener, is a wealth of earthworms. In my garden, every spade full of earth turns up two or three, hard at work breaking down decaying plant material and loosening the dirt. That is particularly important in our garden, where the soil is dark but tight.
Gardening does more than produce the most healthful food on Earth. The work is good for body, mind and soul. But there are other fringe benefits to be enjoyed. The morning air is filled with the songs and calls of mating birds—the whistles of cedar waxwings, the crow of the pheasant rooster, the cooing of turtle doves, the “pechur, pechur, whit, whit, whit, whit,” of the cardinal—and in the pond the exuberant croaking of frogs. The bluebirds that nest by the garden gate flit from their house when I enter, but soon return to the task of incubating eggs.
The first phases of my work are over, tilling and planting, and soon the weeding, cultivating and mulching will begin. Most of the garden’s bounty will not mature until July and August, but if we are lucky, we’ll be eating freshly-picked salads by Memorial Day. When the bluebirds’ work of harvesting insects for gaping mouths begins, most of our work will be finished, and the most tangible rewards of gardening will be here.
–Jerry
