RETURNING LIGHT
As a gardener my life has always been defined by the seasons. Every year at this time I feel hope rise as I count down the days to the Winter Solstice. Of course, December twenty-second has only a tiny amount more daylight than December twenty-first, but I know that every day afterwards brings a little more light. In these difficult times, it seems especially important to remember the cyclical nature of all things. Gardeners have a built-in edge in that respect.
Five years ago, it seemed that everyone had abandoned dirt gardening in favor of buying expensive accoutrements for overblown “outdoor rooms”. Many of those who bought all of that equipment were too busy to use it. At the time I wondered if people would ever get back to basics. I should have known better. The world has turned and now thousands of people–from novice gardeners to experienced gardeners and even plant-phobic types who only go outside to use their gas grills–are creating vegetable gardens. Next spring retailers who used to have trouble getting rid of their tomato, pepper and lettuce seeds will probably be struggling to keep up with the demand. We may not get back to the Victory Gardens of World War II, but there will be a lot of money saving/low carbon footprint/organic/locavore gardens popping up. Some suburbanites are even violating one of the prime suburban commandments and putting something interesting–rows of basil and beans–in their front yards.
As you wait for the return of the light, there are many things that you can do to keep the horticultural flame alive. If you are short on cash, it doesn’t matter, because most of them cost little or nothing.
Read: Whether you are contemplating a new vegetable garden, or just searching out some inspiration, there are a million good garden-related books. How-to information abounds in those books and on the internet. If you don’t know where to start, just enter a basic phrase, like “grow tomatoes,” in the search box of your web browser. You will be amazed at the information that comes up. To start yourself off with an excellent dose of inspiration, go to the local library and check out anything by the late Henry Mitchell, who was one of; if not the best, garden writers America has ever produced. Try his book, The Essential Earthman. The language is accessible and the observations are trenchant and often very funny. If you are in the gift-giving mode, most of Mitchell’s books are available in inexpensive paperback editions. Any gardener who hasn’t read Henry Mitchell should start doing so now.
Plan: When I can’t get to sleep at night, I plan gardens in my head. Since sleeplessness is going around these days, I recommend this practice to others. I start with my own garden as it exists right now, and envision ways to make it better. I move things around mentally, reuniting groups of plants that have gotten separated as the garden grew larger. I think of gardens that I have visited in the past, remembering ideas that I wanted to try on my own property. In your dreams you can even start from scratch. Sometimes I find myself imagining a bed with only purple and orange-flowered plants. It is much safer to think such radical ideas out thoroughly in those minutes or hours before sleep comes than to launch into them unprepared and scare the neighbors.
If dreaming isn’t concrete enough for you, sketch out ideas on paper. You can even do this while commuting or waiting in line. Put your sketches and ideas in a file somewhere so you don’t lose them.
Buying: If you have money to spend on garden related items, including natural decorations, this holiday season, patronize local businesses. Margins for small nurseries and garden centers are thin in the best of times and every dollar counts now. Local business people have tended your lawns, sold you Christmas trees and schlepped mulch to your car in the good times. They often give discounts to local nonprofit groups. If you want them to be there for you next year and the year after that, support them now. You may not be able to buy the amount of merchandise that you purchased in years past, but every little bit helps. Remember that they are your neighbors and the health of the community depends on them.
When I think of hard times, I think of medieval monks–who were faced with the constant threat of pestilence, war and disorder–faithfully tending monastery gardens. I think of George Washington, taking time out from fighting a series of losing Revolutionary war battles to write home to Mount Vernon about his gardens and crops. I think of the English soldier in World War I who planted snowdrops in an empty mortar shell casing. It sounds clichéd, but those images give me great hope. Ten years ago, author Thomas Cahill published How the Irish Saved Civilization, a tribute to the many contributions of the Irish people over the millennia. There is ample reason to suppose that you could write a similar book about gardeners. It is something to keep in mind as we wait for the return of the light.