Accidental Gardening

Last year, I put in a couple of raised beds and tried my hand at gardening for the first time…with mixed results. 

I planted vegetables and flowers. Whatever captured my interest. Phlox, Holly Hock, Clematis vines and ornamental grasses. I did a pepper plant, tomatoes and cantaloupe. And some herbs. Mint, oregano and basil. 

I just kind of stuck them all together and they became a glorious mash up. The tomatoes got so big, they kept crushing the metal support cages as fast as I could reinforce them. They wound up taking over the bed they were in, but they produced an abundance of tomatoes! 

And so too, the cantaloupes. The vines went everywhere. Claimed everything. I’m not exaggerating, it was risky to sit still too long in the yard. Even the dogs kept a sharp eye on them when they were laying in the shade. 

But the cantaloupes were great, I have to say, when we finally got the hang of picking them at the right time. 

So, I chalk last year up as a learning experience. And the biggest thing I learned was how much fun planting stuff was. A revelation for someone born and raised in the city. 

This year, I segregated my vegetables in their own raised beds. Put in tomatoes with heavy duty, 2×4 stakes. 

My neighbor thought I was framing a new garage. 

“Nope,” I said. “Tomatoes.” 

“Ahhh,” he nodded knowingly. 

I got some cantaloupe vines again, way off by themselves behind the garage, so they play nice. Some peppers again. I’m trying jalepeños this year. A whole bunch of strawberries and a couple blueberry bushes, which need really acidic soil. But, I got lots of soil acidifier and have my fingers crossed. 

We also put in cucumbers (not sure why) and lots of lettuce. 

And, we have lots of native flowers for pollinators in last year’s beds. Butterfly bushes, Butterfly weed, Black-eyed Susans, Giant Cone Flowers, Coreopsis, Trumpet vines, Lamb’s Ear: and I was delighted to find many of the Phlox and Holly Hock came back from last year. 

I thought they’d given up on me and my bumbling attempt at a garden. But grace always comes in surprising ways. 

And, that’s what I am finding in my garden this year. As it grows and expands as I add little bits to it, here and there. 

I am amazed at how much comfort there is in surrounding yourself with things that are growing and thriving. Especially now. What a refuge it has become at the end of days spent meeting new challenges with cobbled, imperfect solutions. And a reminder of sorts. A living object lesson.

I put my feet up (now that the cantaloupe vines are socially distanced), grab a beer and enjoy the display of new blooms and colors the day has brought to replace those faded from yesterday. Planning on what might go where next, when I get some time free.

Meanwhile, the world hums and buzzes around me. Chirps and sings from branches hidden behind a thick canopy of leaves. 

And I am left to contemplate the beauty that forever fades and is always renewed. The more I sit here in this garden, the more I realize that the beauty is as much in the process as the product. In the season itself, coming and going, as much as the gifts that it bestows. 

I try to remember that as things change around me almost every day. 

Each day is painted from its own palette of color, and the gifts it leaves, like those my garden brings, are never what I expected.