My gardens are made of the best intentions.
In the winter I flip through gardening catalogs and map out planting schemes. I read diverse and wonderful books likeGaia’s Garden: A Guide to Home-Scale Permaculture, The Winter Harvest Handbook: Year Round Vegetable Production Using Deep Organic Techniques and Unheated Greenhouses, andInvasive Plant Medicine: The Ecological Benefits and Healing Abilities of Invasives. I tell myself I’ll be a better gardener the next spring. More energetic, more diligent, more heat tolerant.
That doesn’t happen.
I intend to plant with deep reverence for seed and soil. And I start out that way. But somehow I always find myself hurrying to get one more row in before the sprinkling rain becomes a downpour. The seeds I so carefully saved dump out as I bend over like peasant women have done for eons. The dirt I thought reasonably…
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