People tell me all the time that I must have a beautiful garden.  And, I do. But not like the ones that grace the covers of Home and Garden magazines.  It is a humble backyard, a Colorado backyard.  It is not spared from scorching hot days and hard soil; we do our best to water and amend the soil, sing to the plants and apply some biodynamic sprays, but basically, it is a garden that fights for my attention and for better or worse sometimes gets a bit neglected in favor of the busy family life.  It is a place where I can find beauty, ground and joy when I make the time.

The garden is filled with medicinal plants (and many veggies and herbs)–many that have been planted and some volunteers.  These plants, over the years I have been around them, have their stories.  Some flourished this year, some have died, some have struggled and have been dug up and replanted somewhere else on the property, some I can always count on for healing, some I am newly discovering their uses and gifts.

I laugh (and cry) when I think of the hundreds of dollars that my husband and I have spent on plants in the spring over the last ten years in our North Boulder home.  We get so excited to plant them -have grandiose plans–and then the inevitable…. in our excitement, we forget to share with the other what and where we planted and …. yup, they are dug up and replanted with more beautiful ones. Although, we are definitely getting better about communicating, one thing that has helped is to plant the larger plants and not from seed.  What we both agree on is that we want color, to support the bees, to feed the family and to reconnect with the Earth–a kind of mediation providing peace in our hearts.

I have never felt I have a green thumb.  My grandfather planted and tended to fruit trees and he raised cattle (for show and meat) and chickens (for meat and eggs); my mother raised pigs (for meat) and loved her garden, but somehow and where, I felt removed from this love, and what I really remember is how my mom would go to the garden and chomp on a carrot, handful of greens (worms, dirt and all) and somehow expect that we would have the same excitement because it came from her garden and the earth.  Instead of being drawn into gardening, I was repelled.  Still can’t eat pork.  Wash lettuce to within an inch of its life. The A+P grocery chain felt safer to me than what we grew.  It was the raw intimacy with nature that somehow felt scary and yet now is what I am finding myself wanting to rediscover and connect with.

I know how difficult it is to grow food for the family. It remains a lofty goal because it really requires everyones efforts to dig, plant, harvest, clean and to prepare. And we have other challenges–chasing goats off of plants, deer nibbling valerian until they are sleepy, dogs peeing on the herbs–you name it…  What I can tell you is that when things grow, it feels successful. This year, as I watch the pumpkins and squashes reach maturity, I am keeping a close eye on those pesky squirrels!  It is not like I know what I am doing, but rather I feel like I am moving into a stage where I am noticing more.  I am starting to pay more attention to the plants and how they respond to rain or bugs and other stressors.  I carve out more time to sit and draw them or just do a walk by to see where are they in the leaf, fruit, flower stage.

I can only imagine how crazy my neighbors think I am as I walk around the property with a 5gal bucket with a biodynamic prep that is stirred for 20min or 1hour and then sprinkled on the ground.  These biodynamic preps come from Rudolf Steiner’s picture of enlivening our generally depleted soil and working with the cosmic forces and natural rhythms to support growth especially in extreme climates or weather patterns.  I admit that my understanding of this practice is very new, but I feel the attraction to caring for the earth in this way. The Harmonizing Prep is my most special and favorite offering that is usually given at the end of September as a gratitude spray.  Well, the other one, Three Kings, is equally powerful for me, but that one is not until early January.

With bees, chickens, compost piles… there is a certain wholeness to the garden as it is set up.  There are areas kept purposefully wilder.  Every year the plants become more established.  I think of how much I/we have put towards creating a workable soil and a diversity of plants to feed us and support the wildlife.  Being caretakers of the Earth and her gifts is a necessary calling in our times.