We are in the midst of a winter storm right now that likely will dump about 5 or 6 inches of snow locally, so this may seem to be an odd time to write about gardening. I walked outside a few minutes ago and the only thing that remains of my garden are the skeletons of the wildflowers that bloomed there last season. However, my thoughts were propelled towards spring with the arrival of the season’s first garden seed catalog in today’s mail.
Gardening has been part of my life since I was probably six or seven. It began with my grandfather’s tomato plants and rhubarb in his backyard on Cherry Street, punctuated with trips to my uncle’s farm near Waymansville to pick up a basket of cow manure every growing season. That always made for a rather stinky ride back into town, but boy did it work wonders on those tomatoes. I remember tilling up my own spot in our backyard on Chestnut Street when I was 12 and fondly recall the stand of popcorn I grew. One could say gardening got into my blood at an early age, or maybe it was always there coming alive in yet another generation.
Although I have never had quite the garden that my parents once had, I have enjoyed a garden every season that I have had my own home. I cannot imagine a spring where I would not be digging in the soil and patiently putting seed and plants in the ground. To not smell the perfume of fresh soil, herbs, and garden plants; to not feel the seeds of the future in the palm of my hand. To lose these things would be to give up a bit of my spirit, my connection to the earth. Gardening is one outward manifestation of my connection to nature. Whether holding a fresh tomato in my hand or admiring an ox-eye daisy growing in my wildflower garden, each reminds me of the presence of the divine in those things outside that I hold so dear. There is something refreshing about washing the cares of the day away outside among my vegetables, herbs, and blooming perennials, a touch of nature as close as my backyard. So as I wait for spring, I will keep the garden catalogs that arrive close at hand as a reminder that hope springs eternal.
“The love of gardening is a seed once sown that never dies.” – Gertrude Jekyll
“The garden suggests that there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway.” – Michael Pollan
“I like gardening – it’s a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.” – Alice Sebold
“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” – Cicero
John B. DeLap 