Gardening and the natural world
I'll be doing a short segment about "finding your gardening voice" during our tea-time program this week with my friends and acquaintances at the Heritage St. Lawrence English-outreach library in Quebec.
We're meeting every Thursday afternoon now via Zoom, which I appreciate, as I'm not able to be there in person at this point, as I was in our wintertime sojourn in Quebec.
There's still snow there now, but I'm in the midst of spring here.
What I'll reflect on is the power of gardens to connect with nature, creativity, and voice.
As we become gardeners, we also become artists and as we write about our gardens, writers, too.
And some folks become poets and song-writers. Or they turn to their gardens to develop new inspiration in these times, if they weren't gardeners before, or are urban dwellers without space.
I had a lovely conversation today with a neighbor from the apartment next to our house. We've always referred to her as the "Farm Lady" as that's what her license plate reads.
I learned her name today. Her name is Andi.
She was out transforming beds in front from Euphorbia gone wild to edibles. Thankfully, she also has an excellent raised bed, left behind by a previous apartment dweller.
It's now planted with greens.
I'm so grateful for our garden, both native and edible -- I had a large spinach harvest in my salad basket as I had this conversation (and this is at least the 5th or 6th this spring). The apartment is on the left.
I'll be planting tomatoes and peppers in the weeks to come. Our summer tenant (hopefully) can make salsa, as she'd hoped.
We're meeting every Thursday afternoon now via Zoom, which I appreciate, as I'm not able to be there in person at this point, as I was in our wintertime sojourn in Quebec.
There's still snow there now, but I'm in the midst of spring here.
What I'll reflect on is the power of gardens to connect with nature, creativity, and voice.
As we become gardeners, we also become artists and as we write about our gardens, writers, too.
And some folks become poets and song-writers. Or they turn to their gardens to develop new inspiration in these times, if they weren't gardeners before, or are urban dwellers without space.
I had a lovely conversation today with a neighbor from the apartment next to our house. We've always referred to her as the "Farm Lady" as that's what her license plate reads.
I learned her name today. Her name is Andi.
She was out transforming beds in front from Euphorbia gone wild to edibles. Thankfully, she also has an excellent raised bed, left behind by a previous apartment dweller.
It's now planted with greens.
I'm so grateful for our garden, both native and edible -- I had a large spinach harvest in my salad basket as I had this conversation (and this is at least the 5th or 6th this spring). The apartment is on the left.
I'll be planting tomatoes and peppers in the weeks to come. Our summer tenant (hopefully) can make salsa, as she'd hoped.
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| My front raised beds |
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