I made some rookie errors when I planted our veggie patch last summer. I jumped in too quickly, without observing the patch – where the light falls, what the wind does – etcetera. The site is, it turns out, dank, with very little winter sunshine. But – never mind – I cut everything back, let it hibernate and ready itself for spring, and took a little break from urban gardening.
I also planted during a drought, which may have been a little unwise, but our well-point is up and running. The water tank and the patch are on opposite corners of the house (there were some space restrictions and it was the only way we could configure it). No worries – we’ve rigged up a very long hosepipe and fashioned a tap – and, with some effort, we’re able to feed the groundwater to our veggies. Minor obstacles.
It’s September and look at these gorgeous blooms that are springing to life!
Our veggie patch is at the back of our house; you need to walk out and around to get to it. It’s a trip I’m starting to love, I can feel the anticipation build as I round the corner. I get excited to suss out what’s happened overnight, and, if I’m lucky enough to have a cup of tea in hand, to sit, groggy and unwashed, and enjoy a few stolen moments of complete solitude before the days starts. A momentary vacation from my thoughts, and from my kids (turns out its a great place to hide from them).
It’s been two months since we started growing and one of the best parts are the firsts. First granadilla flower (I think I yelped out loud when I spotted it), first green pepper bud (imperfect as it was), first homegrown salad. My pride and joy, I almost can’t bear to eat these little babies.
We’re forging ahead with our veggie garden despite the relentless heat. In retrospect, planting during a drought may have been unwise – but the seasons are turning; the days are crisper and there are traces of dew in the mornings. And, most crucially, our well point is up and running.
We’ve started small, sticking to veggies that were already in the patch or that we’ve had luck with before. Though today, on a whim, I snuck past the nursery and couldn’t resist picking up borage and echinacea.
Borage, much-loved by experienced gardeners, is said to have all kinds of benefits – it adds trace minerals to the soil, self seeds, is edible (one has to wonder how edible with those prickly leaves), and is a magnet for bees and other pollinators. So I’m giving it a whirl. Echinacea – who can resist those gorgeous flowers?
Gardening is an active participation in the deepest mysteries of the universe.
– Thomas Berry
A momentous day! I finally convinced my boys (the not-so-farmy ones) to move the trampoline so I can claim a patch of land to start a veggie garden. Here it is, in all its bare earth glory.
I know next to nothing about growing vegetables – the learning curve is going to be steep. First task – remove the bits of rubble and prepare the soil, enriching it with compost. All the while plotting and dreaming about this little tract of land in our little corner of suburbia, where we’ll toil, grow, learn and find nourishment.
Garden as though you will live forever
My parents taught me many things. Gardening and a love for the outdoors wasn’t one of them. Our gardens were unloved extensions of our houses; we were seldom in them. A love for all things green is something that has, over time, trickled into my consciousness.
Over the years, in between all the moving, I’ve dabbled with growing things. Mostly with succulents and herbs, and usually in pots. But the urge to stick stuff in the ground, watch it grow, yank it out and eat it, is growing stronger.
As I muddle along and experiment, I’m constantly learning and adapting what happens in our tiny patch of suburban land. I have a gardener who helps me a few hours a week and every week for the past few years, he’d diligently stand in the beds and poke holes in the soil, to aerate it and prevent it from becoming compacted. Next he’d rake up all the leaves, bag them up and toss them in the trash – creating a neat, manicured garden where everything was trimmed back and contained.
We’ve wisened up since then and learnt a thing or two – about mulch and about microlife in the soil.
Mulch, the layer of organic material on top of your soil, does wonders for your garden:
it regulates the temperature, keeping heat out and moisture in – crucial if you’re gardening in a water scarce place
mulching with nutrient-rich compost or leaf mould allows microlife to thrive in the soil. Soil teeming with microlife is naturally aerated (from worms wriggling and burrowing) and unlikely to become compacted. Poking holes in the soil only upsets the delicate balance of the tiny creatures working their magic in the layers of your soil
a mulch keeps weeds from popping up
We don’t turf our fallen leaves anymore, we treasure them. We let them pile up in our beds or we chuck them in our just-acquired leaf mulcher, in the hope of making leaf mould.
The ‘no dig, chop and drop’ approach to gardening is resonating more and more. Less primping and pruning and trying to bend the garden to our will. Our focus is shifting – we’ll aim to get the basics right – enrich the soil, plan the best position for plants, strengthen them, and then, as much as possible, let nature take over and do what its perfectly designed to do.