I am not a gardener yet. I have a lot of ground to cover before I am confident enough to go it alone. Yet, I cannot hide my excitement at being here, in this place of secret desire, stooped over close to the ground, pulling weeds and tilling the soil. There is something powerful and primal about working a piece of land. No artist's brush can capture the vitality of spirit, the deep sense of belonging I feel standing with a rake in my hand. rooted to the tiny plot of land I intend to turn into a garden.
I am a knowledge junkie so my gardening journey began in the pages of books a decade ago. At the time, I was troubled by the fact I couldn't seem to grow anything except tumors. Beautiful plants brought home from the nursery soon withered and died. The more I studied the relationship between humans and plants, the more convinced I was the toxicity of my lifestyle was responsible for both my health problems and my killing way with plants.
I made an immediate decision to change my life, to figure out how to create a nurturing environment that could sustain me and my plants. I am still learning to "cha-cha" through this work in progress, 2 steps forward 1 step back, but I have slowed down enough to be more consciously present and connected to my life. I pay attention to and care for the plants in my home and they in turn care for me. Walking into a room with lots of green foliage is life affirming; the mood shift toward calm, positive thoughts is a gentle reminder of nature's hold over us.
My step-father and my mother are my gardening partners. My mother's expertise is more in the food preparation part of this project; she knows a lot about making things grown in a garden taste great on your plate. My step-father, Pop Lyles, has a 100-acre farm still in production so he knows his way around a garden. I simply follow his lead.
The first step in preparing our garden is clearing out the debris from the last growing season. Armed with rakes and hoes and a bag of compost, we turn up the ground, chopping up weeds and carting away dead vegetation in a wheelbarrow. Next, we lay down a layer of organic compost and rake it into the top soil. After leveling out the ground, my step-father turns on the water spout so the narrow delivery tubes stretched length ways across both sides of our plot, can saturate the top soil.
"Once the ground is watered good, we will be ready to plant the seeds," Pop Lyles says surveying our freshly tilled plot.
I stand next to him beaming. Although I am sweaty and dusty from raking the ground, I feel good. "Just think," I say to myself, "The next time we tend to this garden, it will be time to sow some seeds." I am becoming a gardener. Awesome.