The Spirit Garden

The change

2006-11-26T13:22:00.000-05:00

I spent a long time just standing in the garden Sunday morning, walking from one corner to the other, following the path from east to west and back again, wondering what was it that didn't feel right. The mild neglect was showing in the weeds and the obscured paths, but so too was the care in the marigold blooms and tall salvias. It was well planted, but bare in spots; tended in some places, overgrown in others. The garden seemed fractured, as if it was no longer either contained by or able to fill its own borders or the needs of WeMoon Spirit. As I stood there, I wondered if anyone had lately walked through the garden, and if so, what thoughts did their meander evoke? I got the distinct feeling that the garden had not been well-used in quite a while.

It was always the intention of the garden to invite women to connect with the Earth through sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste. The first plants were edible, fragrant herbs, and the paths were lovingly set out in curvy, organic lines; the idea was to bring peace of mind and joy of spirit to the women who worked, walked, and sat there.

So I began pulling up bottles and setting them out anew. I turned the compost pile, taking the chocolate-cake earth from the bottom and adding it to the beds while burying layers of green folliage and pine needles and sticks in its place. I pruned and pulled up and planted and moved around until something started to change.
My breath seemed to draw deeper; my arms and legs felt stretched and warm; my feet moved about easily, as if trodding by feel instead of sight. The path and experience that were so elusive when I first arrived began to emerge in my mind, my body, and the garden.

It had been a few moons since I'd spent any real time there, and I can't yet say when I'll again be able to dedicate the time it needs. But in recognizing and working with the Spirit of the Spirit Garden, I felt in myself something stir.

And the garden grows...

2006-09-09T11:16:00.000-04:00

I headed over to Native Nurseries today to check out their Organic Day workshops; saw a few friends—Herman and Louise of Turkey Hill Farm and Cynthia at Ladybird Organics—and a couple of faces I didn’t know. This latter fact made me the most happy, as it seems that the organic movement, though more complicated now than it was ten years ago, is gaining converts at an amazing rate.

I bought a couple of new plants for the Spirit Garden, too—an O’Toole’s Anise Hyssop and a red Bee Balm. They’re both spring and summer bloomers, and so are at the end of their showy cycle, but they are also both perennials, and so will hopefully just make themselves happy in the garden for the long term. I made a kind of mental note last year to start thinking long-term for the garden when I realized that it was pretty hard to maintain annuals and vegetables without a continuous presence. The herbs and flowers that are there now seem to really make sense.

I put the two new plants in the long bed near the main path, which is pretty near full now. I was thinking of starting some nasturtiums to fill in here and there though (because what WOULD I do without my favorite cool weather lovely?).

connection

2006-09-03T23:54:00.000-04:00

I have been spending time in the garden for the past couple of weeks. A little bit at a time. Weeding and watering and just being there feeling her energy. Its such a blessing that we have this beautiful space there with to remind us of our connection to the earth and how much she provides for us.

I arrived yesterday and knew instantly Teresa had been there working hard that morning. So many weeds were gone and two beds were cleared. It was really exciting to see. While Teresa was out working hard I had been visiting the Turkey Hill folks at the farmers market to get some baby broccoli spouts for our garden. I was hoping to get some chard as well but it wasn't there yet. I headed over to Native nurseries as well and got a few herbs to add to the garden as well.

In the last week I have added some flowing sages and lemon balm. Yesterday I added a stevia plant, pineapple sage and some marigolds. I also planted the broccoli sprouts.

I love being able to add my energy to this amazing space and be able to see the results of the women who have been working in it. Its an amazing wondrous thing.

Welcome, fall

2006-09-02T11:40:00.000-04:00

What became of summer in the Spirit Garden?, you might ask. Well, it was hot and sticky, and very few (but a couple) of our summer vegetables produced. The garden did not get as much love and attention as she deserved, though a handful of women worked steadily and with great care to keep her living things living. But this morning, while at the garden, I noticed the changing season in the air and felt that perhaps things would be turning again.

Sandi’s own spirit has been infused into the garden frequently and with beautiful results these past couple of weeks—you’ll notice several pretty new plants (including three lovely blooming sages), fewer weeds, and more mulch, all thanks to her. It never fails to surprise me how quickly and graciously the garden responds to such favors. Even if I hadn’t known Sandi had been there, I would have “known;” gardens, I think, are just like that.

I spent my hour and a half weeding with gusto; although there remains much unplanted material to pull and add to the compost pile, it felt great to be out there bending and stretching and walking with purpose. It also felt great to be back, knowing that we are entering my very favorite gardening season.

Welcome, fall. I feel and see good things coming…

Pictures of May

2006-05-12T16:15:00.000-04:00

I think May is our best month in the Spirit Gardens. Although we had an early visit from army worms this year, our relocation program (removing them by hand to the far reaches of the property) seems to have suited them fine. And the rain coupled with cool mornings and evenings has given many of our new additions time to adapt and make themselves comfortable.

Here is a picture taken in late April. Notice the squash plants in the foreground, with their second set of true leaves, just beginning to crawl.

And here, just two weeks later! Squash is such an impressive plant, with it's huge, hairy leaves, big hollow stalks, and crepey yellow-orange flowers.

Before we even got a change to miss having little tomatoes around, they sprouted themselves from the compost pile. Some of you may remember that last year we lost a good deal of the crop to aforementioned army worms, and apparently our pile didn't get hot enough to cook those half-eaten fruits' seeds. I present to you the tenacious Silvery Fur Tree bush tomato...

Ms. Anna's glorious garden shed, almost complete. You can see in the one corner there's just a bit of concrete and mortar left to pour between the urbanite blocks, and along the back wall a few more boards to tack up. Then it will be a functioning lean-to, and will become a shed when we get around to making the front wall. These things take time.

Swiss Chard. Can't be beat. He's presently sharing a bed with creeping thyme and cinnamon basil.

And just to show that we're not ALL business, a coleus, for beauty. (He is nestled between catnip, for tea, and milkweed and parsley for the butterflies, though; gardens must be USEFUL you know...)

Finally, a last look, as you're leaving the garden, heading back through the arches. You can even see my son's little foot in the lower left-hand corner. Patient boy, waiting in the shade, watching the bees and butterflies and wind in the trees as I putter.

Gracias por las gotas!

2006-04-26T17:46:00.000-04:00

Blessed, blessed rains and the gray skies that brought them! We went right past spring and into summer, it seems, and the precipitation took a little while to catch up to the heat. But it has certainly made things interesting in the garden. The astors and the mint are threatening to fill in the spiral, and the squash, cucs, melon, and tomatoes have grown several inches in just a week. But, the worst of the worst news, we have army worms. Army worms decimated our tomato crop last year and made things very unpleasant to touch and look at. At the moment they're doing bad things to the English marigolds. We're investigating their destruction.

And today I went to the Growers Market at Lake Ella, and with the $20 that Janis donated to the garden for flowers, bought some really beautiful ones to plant among the sunflowers behind the hoop. I also bought lemon and cinnamon basil and orange and creeping thyme. I did manage to get them into the ground before those big late-afternoon raindrops sent me and Woody for cover (in Spanish, those big drops get their own word--gotas!). So we may stop by again before the end of the week to get the flowers planted up.

Gardening with wee ones

2006-04-02T22:30:00.000-04:00

The sunflowers, which I've been planting two and three at a time as baby boy's capricious moods allow, are loving this heat. We planted a row behind the hoop and single flowers here and there throughout the main garden, and being out of the way, we tend to forget about them. But since they're so darn drought tolerant, they forgive us, and grow anyway. The heat has also made us brave enough to plant the summer squash, cantaloupe, and tomatoes (all in the crescent moon bed) and cucumbers (in the path bed behind the chard). In the shady spots on the east side of the garden, the parsley, onions, lettuce, kale, beets, and leeks are still growing, too, and we're hoping to get a few more weeks out of them.

The herbs are filling in fabulously -- sage takes up the whole wall bed and then into the paths some, same with the mint marigold. Bee balm, planted between the two, was just planted and is only about two inches tall, but she'll get there. Rosemary is growing well, and not too fast to interfere with the carrots growing in front of her. And wormwood and rue and comfrey couldn't be better.

And, thanks to Jan and her two baby girls, the fairies in the garden feel loved. That always helps things to grow beautifully!

March pictures

2006-03-25T20:03:00.000-05:00

It was glorious today, and we got a heck of a lot done on the garden shed. Here's what we had to look at while we worked:

Comfrey does quite well for us, which I guess is fitting for the women's center! We have two, both full and happy to spread.

This last cold snap perked up the collards, so we'll put off pulling them for another week or so. It's always such a sad little task.

We're not supposed to be able to grow garden sage here. Ha!

Even though we were late getting our winter veggies in the ground, these little beets (front) and kale (back) are doing great. The lemon marigolds to the right have gotten big and pushy--they take up nearly five square feet now!

I had never been a salad kind of girl, but then last year, when I got a handful of crisp, tasty, tender lettuces every time I went to the garden, I was sold. And growing them couldn't be easier.

Our ladies of the garden! Last year, our first bloomer was one of these irises, and this year, even though we transplanted them in late January, we got a few purple lovelies.

Quiet spring

2006-03-22T15:11:00.000-05:00

Oy. I promise we've been IN the garden all this time. We've just not been POSTING about it. In fact, spring is sneaking quietly into the garden.

On Friday the 17th, WeMoon Spirit's 3rd birthday, I went to the garden at sunrise to just be there. It wasn't much to give, no party or planting or plans. I simply woke up early, snuck out before the baby or husband woke, and walked around the property while the sun peeked over the edge of the earth. The blue-gray light played beautifully on the few plants that we had managed to grow over the winter, especially the leeks, rue, comfrey, catmint, wormwood, and agave whose already silvery foliage nearly glowed with the yet-coming day. Even though it was less of a celebration than an observation, I felt like it was a commitment. It was a promise that I would be there.

And today I did some planting. About half of the seeds that I started at home came up. I planted a row of cataloupe, cucumbers, a few sunflowers, and three nasturtium. Then baby boy gave up on me. Then we came home.

This Saturday we're working on the garden shed for two hours, and I'm going to try and get there early to be able to do a little planting beforehand. It's about that time; any later and we'll be racing the bugs for the fruit come August.

Fabulous February

2006-02-25T18:58:00.000-05:00

This month has been kind to the Spirit Garden. We had a little freeze that killed off our hangers-on from summer--namely the dahlias--but for the most part, the plants have loved this cool, wet, breezy weather. It was especially good for transplanting. It's always so risky, moving a plant to a new home. I've lost more than one that way, and wished I had just left well enough alone. But our transplants are so much more than well enough. They're doing spectacularly, and we're so glad that they are helping to expand the garden.

We've planted the last of our winter crops, except maybe we'll try to get another batch of carrots in the ground--I've never eaten a fresh-from-the-garden carrot. And just this afternoon I started the summer veg and flowers. I chose a new approach this year and planted ALL of the seeds in the seed packs. It's just such a waste to end up with 1/3 a pack two years after prime viability. Here come the SUNFLOWERS and STRAWFLOWERS and MOONFLOWERS and COSMOS and ZINNIAS and DAHLIAS and CLOCKVINE and so many others that the garden will simply burst forth in color and delight. It will be a season for photographs. Seeds are something else, huh? Each little moonflower seed looks like a tooth, like a big incisor, so substantial and smooth. But then there's the basil seeds, tinier than some pieces of sand, so insignificant looking. It's a different feeling, planting each one, but the same test of patience and gratitude.

The shed is coming along, board by nail by board. We have a pretty lavender roof now, and even a front window (even though there are no walls yet!).

Oh! And we've got a new bed. The ground behind the hoop has finally been broken up, and we'll finish the job next week. That's a good place for the "where to put them?" big plants such as cardinal guard and poinsetta. We're hoping that some big, dramatic plants back there will make it that much easier for drivers to swing in for a peek. Now that just made up my mind. That will be the perfect place for the 6-foot sunflowers.

Queen Compost has Moved

2006-02-18T21:50:00.000-05:00

Today was one of those rare and wonderful days when I convinced my husband to come to the garden with me. This allowed me to 1) move about the property freely and quickly, without having to carry the baby in the clunky carrier, and 2) act like I was talking to an actual person, even though we both knew I was talking to myself. (The imporant thing is to fool the passers-by, not the spouse.) So I managed to accomplish a whole heck of a lot.

First, I moved most of the compost pile from next to the site of the new shed to the area next to the arches and behind where we keep the terra cotta pots. It's more visible there, but since compost is the queen of the organic garden, I thought our modest little pile deserved to be noticed.

Next, I put up pot poles. I stuck pieces of ribar into the ground, then slid three to five one-hole-on-the-bottom pots onto these poles, angled so that they rested on the lip of the one below and an oppostie angle. This is so hard to describe; maybe I'll get a picture next week to be able and show you. What these are good for are herbs that don't like much moisture. The pots, being clay, breathe and dry out faster than the ground. So thymes, oregano, marjoram, and other Mediterranean natives that we struggle to grow often do well in these little get ups. They're not planted up yet. All in due time.

Last, I planned. I walked around. I sat down. I pondered. I moved plants around mentally. I thought about WeMoon as a whole, and what changes could be made in the garden to improve her.

No wildlife sightings to report. Except for the colony (colony!!) of roaches and the ant egg beds that I found in two of the pots that I disturbed.

P.S. Special thanks to Paty and Bonnie for spreading the big mulch on the main path, and for showing us how and when to harvest collards and mustard greens! And a big hug and thank you to Lydia, who has been our Wednesday gardener for almost a month now, and who we hope to be seeing much more of at WeMoon.

Whoops

2006-02-04T21:03:00.000-05:00

I don't know why I didn't consult The Old Farmer's Almanac before planting today. I just got all excited that so many of the sprouts had gotten their true leaves. And some of the lettuces were busting out of the bottom of their trays! So I rushed to the garden to get them in the ground. And it's going to freeze tonight. And it's a waxing moon, and I can't remember if that's the best or the worst time to plant. But anyway, carrots, beets, kale, lettuce, and a few more collards got planted. We'll see if they're there in the morning.

Oh, and I bought a few plant tags, little cheapy ones, to mark the different beds with. Only I needed something to hang them on. (Like I said, the cheapy ones, not the pretty brass stick-in-the-ground kind.) So I went to the thrift store and bought some tchotchkies -- a tall silver fork, a little brass tree, an imitation Lladro girl with outstretched arms -- and placed them among the new plantings. They look a little silly now, since there are no plants around them, but they'll look cute soon enough. And while I was buying them, I also bought tickets for the Women Rock! festival at Spanish Moss Farm on March 18. WeMoon is a sponsor!

A shed takes shape

2006-01-31T16:08:00.000-05:00

Where once there was a compost pile, now there are six beams planted. Yes, beams. Not beans. Beams. They are the beginning of our garden shed, a much-needed house for our tools, seeds, and other supplies. This past Saturday, we also got started on the urbanite floor. We have no blueprint, just a mental plan that we're kind of altering as we go -- roots and schedules have to be accomodated, after all. And although it will be a slow project, worked on in tiny steps, we're very pleased it's underway.

Thanks to Tina for brining by her holiday Poinsettia -- we'll find a spot where it can grow big and wild, like they like to do down here.

The kale, carrots, beets, and lettuces are nearly ready to be planted. Almost all of them have their first true leaves, and when they all do, we'll get them in the ground. And then it will be tiime to start summer plants!

Some movement and a few slithery visitors

2006-01-15T18:49:00.000-05:00

What glorious weather for gardening! And we’ve been busy catching up on the seasonal tasks and tending to the daily ones. I’ve been sprouting lots of veggie seeds at home, reasoning that a transplant needs slightly less attention than a seed (and my attention has been pretty thin lately!). So perhaps in two or three weeks the garden will look significantly fuller. This, assuming I can thwart dampening off, a long-standing issue of mine with seed starting.

But a few things will look new the next time you’re there: we’re beginning to plant some of Robin’s aloe babies as borders; the fig tree is finally in the ground; the butterfly bush has been trimmed and relocated next to the om sculpture; the clary sage and canna have been relocated to help create a border near the west edge of the bottle wall; and finally, the little bed that we so often forget at the east side of the garden next to the camellia is finally being delineated and planted! Apparently our neglect was appreciated by at least one little garden friend, this gray rat snake:

We also were paid a visit by a cutie pie skink:

And here are a few new residents, baby calendulas sprouted from the seeds that did so well for us last year:

Teresa’s still doing the weekend watering, Patty has Mondays, and Lydia Wednesdays – anyone want to jump into a weeding slot? Or care to water as needed on Fridays?

We're back!

2006-01-07T17:38:00.000-05:00

Woohoo! The baby's been born, he's been assimilated into our life, and the garden again has a resident writer.

Our winter planting was a little slow getting started, but even so we have a good showing of greens -- collard and mustard, a nice double row of garlic, one swiss chard plant and some companions in the seed stage, and several pot marigolds about to pop their heads above the soil. The parsley, too, is healthy as can be, and the other herbs, sage, rosemary, comfrey, garlic chives, catnip, rue, and wormwood, are weathering the winter beautifully. So the garden looks patchy, but it's far from dormant.

And today I planted a paperwhite that I stole from the backyard of my rented house. I feel a little weird about that. But I don't think karma extends to transplanting.

Seed catalogues are out!! Anyone else giddy with delight?

Out-of-sorts November

2005-11-10T11:52:00.000-05:00

Change in the garden has been slow. At least the kind of change that the people initiate has been slow. I'm sure the plants are changing at exactly the right speed, thank you very much. We've had unseasonably warm weather this past month, and have been having trouble being a consistent presence in the garden, so November began a little out of sorts. But we have nine little collards who are doing just dandy, a new border of transplanted irises that seem to like their new home, and several herbs that have put out new growth since being planted last month. There are only ever one or two butterflies around in the garden now, and most all of the flowers are either gone or on the tail end of living. And despite the warm weather, the dwindling light has caused lots of leaves to begin falling, so if you're sitting in the garden quietly and a high breeze blows a bit, you'll see them flutter down all around the property.

Twilight

2005-10-11T10:03:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I had the rare (for me) occasion to be up at WeMoon just after the sun had set, in the greenish half-light just as the trees began to blend into a dark wall and the ground seemed an uncertain distance from my feet. Two huge moonflowers, white and delicate like fine china saucers, were opening to the sky above, but most of the garden seemed to be at rest in the relative obscurity of twilight. It was far from chilly last night, but there was something that felt wintery in my visit. It was easy for me to imagine the winter plantings -- crimson Swiss Chard, velvety collards, dark and shiny spinach, fragrant parsley -- crisp and full and splendid in the coming months. They have all made an appearance, most with no more than their two little pre-leaves. But the transformation is afoot. Seasons change, and as slowly and mildly as we feel that in our little part of the world, the garden seems to know it intuitively, and gives us signs of what is to come.

Winter planting

2005-10-01T12:37:00.000-04:00

Since it is officially October, we planted today!! Collards, chard and spinach seeds all have loamy homes in what was the tomato bed this spring and summer. We used last year’s seeds, so we planted 4-5 in each hole, hoping to make up for the decreased percentage of germination.

I really think that winter-spring gardens are the most attractive in Florida. Even though the weather has only been marginally cooler these past two weeks, there’s none of the droopiness or buginess or crazy sprawly groth of the summer; plants are healthy but more compact, and not a single one showed evidence of pest distress. Our plans for the winter garden are still kind of in the works; as we gather ideas, we'll post a winter page on the website.

And here's a treat -- we have acquired a Celestial Fig Tree! We'll probably be planting it in the next two weeks or so.

The End of Summer

2005-09-18T10:42:00.000-04:00

The garden didn't get much more than a few good waterings this week. It's been dry and blazing hot in the afternoons. Neither we nor our plants like being in the garden in those conditions, so we try to make it as comfortable as possible for them, giving them long cool drinks and reminding them that it will get better soon, and then we wait.

Oh, what a beau-ti-ful mor-ning....

2005-09-10T17:11:00.000-04:00

This was our lovliest gardening morning in months! Cool breeze, bright sun, few bugs, and lots of visitors! WeMoon was being rented for a workshop, and many of the attendees leaned over the wall to talk dirt and give compliments. Amid all that good energy, we managed to get the ENTIRE garden weeded. We added a few new herbs, too, perennials who thrive in our cooler weather: catnip, rosemary, and curly parsley. We have lots of plans for transplating some of our underestimated residents, plants whose growth surpassed the space we'd allotted to them, and that will probably take place slowly over the next month or so. And we'll try to get winter-hardy plants in the ground and established. This weather may be a tease, but we'll take it as long as we can get it.

One Year Old

2005-09-04T20:29:00.000-04:00

The Spirit Garden is one year old this month. I'm not sure how to commemorate that, or what to think about it.

There was such an amazing vision when we first broke ground -- a vision of many women tending this soil, adding plants and sculpture and music and love to a place that we would all share and cherish, and which would come to be comprised of flowers, herbs, and vegetables as unique and beautiful as WeMoon. How tightly must one hold a vision? How does one know when a vision must be released, and to love what is in its stead?

The garden has developed and held its own spirit, one that reflects and exists outside of the intentions of the women who spend time there. So I'd like to quietly recognize that we have passed our first year, that we have communed with the earth for four seasons, but maybe spend a little more time thinking about what exactly is a milestone for something that is an ever-changing process.

Here are a few pictures of where we are today:

This is an overall view of the garden. Many of our summer crops faded early, and we are still preparing the beds for a new winter planting, so it looks a bit sparse.

The moon flower vine, which we put in a bit late in June, has wound more than halfway around the hoop.

Lavender mexican sunflowers and a big healthy sweet basil sit side-by-side in the west corner of the bed that borders the bottle wall.

The south edge of the spiral currently holds some of our most successful late-summer plants. In the immediate foregroun (kind of fuzzy) is a dahlia bloom. Just behind that, a little bit up, a pretty comfrey. Then rue, cardinal guard, cann, a big lemon balm, and a few fuchia impatients. At the far upper left-hand corner of the picture some coral sage is in bloom. On the other side of the path astors and lebanese mint have freely intermingled.

Still August...

2005-08-20T16:55:00.000-04:00

It was blazing hot when I got to the garden at about 1 o’clock today. Our rain pattern has been confusing this past week; usually we can count on late-summer afternoon deluges, but this week was dry. So after running a few morning errands, I went to see exactly what the plants might be wanting.

Turns out not a whole lot. Our mulching had kept the ground fairly moist, and the drier air had perked up the sage and wormwood. The astor, comfrey, cosmos, dahlias, milkweed and clockvine were all in bloom or about to bloom. The basil was positively thriving, and had even kicked off some yellowing funk that was plaguing its bottom leaves. Even the mints had tiny flowers on them. The impatients and four o’clocks were impervious to the sweltering heat, tucked away in their high shade, and the rue, lemon balm, and calla lily, all in partial shade, looked good, too.

The butterfly bush’s blooms have given up entirely, as have many of the bearded irises. Poor things held on a lot longer than I would have, if I were a spring bloomer I did not know that rose geranium needed an aggressive pruning after she bloomed mid-spring, so she’s looking a bit homely these days. And the leeks are a bit droopy. I’m not really sure what to do with them. I thought they’d be dead by now for sure, so I’m just kind of watching them.

Surprisingly, the hidden ginger needed a little sprinkling to look her best. She’s in very full sun, though, and I think she’d have done better with a little afternoon reprieve. Also the marigolds look leggy and dried out. I don’t know what their deal is. They’re French marigolds and ought to be very used to hot, dry conditions.

Two little butterflies flit around with me as I walked, but other than that I had no company -- not a single weed had deigned push her vulgar face through our carefully enriched and mulched vegetable beds. I left feeling pretty darn satisfied; overall the plants were doing well. It’s frustrating in August, I think, since there isn’t much that can be planted or transplanted, but it sure does make you appreciate the little guys that show up every day to brave the UVs anyway. God bless our little troopers.

The in-between, hot, wet month of August

2005-08-13T14:50:00.000-04:00

I spent nearly two hours getting the garden in shape this morning. Two hours is a long time for me lately -- in the heat (even in the morning) and with all the crouching and reaching, I've had to limit myself quite a bit. But I took it really slowly, and characteristically, the garden was oh-so appreciative of even my little attention. I was a bit sad to find that the wormwood, a favorite of mine for its lushness and silvery beauty as well as its associations with protection and psychic awareness, was not dealing with last week's transplant well. I'd hate to lose my big bushy guy! And I don't know if it is universally valued for this or not, but I find the smell to be envigorating and very pleasant.

Among August's casualties were the last of the tomatoes. The heat, wet, bugs, and lack of attention did them in. I must say, I wasn't sorry to see them go. Tomatoes are NEEDY plants! And I had long past my fill of their fruit. Maybe next year we'll grow just three or four... The sage is also not enjoying the humidity, and our leggy but unnamed herb along side of it is fading, too. Amazingly, the marigolds seem a bit stressed, but from my experience they rebound and bloom until October.

So the two tomato beds were reclaimed from the weeds, covered with a layer of mushroom compost and another of mulch, and laid to rest for the next two months. They are prime spots for veggies that like sun, so in October we'll get some carrots, lettuce, chard, spinach, onions, and garlic in there. And of course we'll replant a few collards in the crescent moon bed, even though the succulents are happily living there now. I also pulled up the watermelon vine. It was an interesting experiment, training the vine around the spiral, but was not very successful. There were more arms in the path than in the beds, and although there were many flowers, there were no fruits. The mints seem to be doing quite well in the spiral, though, so maybe we'll base the spiral plantings on the equally untame but infinitely more manageable scented lovelies. I've always wanted to try Winter Savory, too, so maybe we'll try to get that started in the spiral. Oh, and thyme supposedly lasts throughout the winter here, so that might be a good bet, too. (Although I have never had luck with thyme.)

It was hot and muggy by 10 a.m., but I felt so rejuvinated being there this morning. It does me so good to sit with the plants, encouraging them and making them as happy as I can. Oh, and this was the best part: the mushroom compost, which I had let sit for the past 2 months, was FULL of earthworms. There must have been a dozen in every shovelful. I love thinking of them doing their little wormy things around the plants' roots. The last thing I did was find a good spot for a metal spiral sculpture that a friend donated. I don't think the spot I chose was quite right, but I'm hoping that in the next few visits, someplace will really ask for it. The pace has changed in the garden, but luckily gardens are, for the most part, forgiving and adaptable.

Survived July

2005-07-28T09:44:00.000-04:00

July beat down with viscious beams and even tropical-storm winds and rain, but the garden made through the month, despite serious neglect on the part of the gardener.

This morning I went to do an hour's worth of straightening up -- an hour is my limit these days -- and I was able to get quite a bit done. Feeling less romantically inclined toward the tomatoes (since many have stopped producing and are not at their peak of health here in the hottest, muggiest days), I pulled four up and added them to the compost heap. On my next visit, I'll add a nice thick layer of mushroom compost to their bed and start planning some winter vegetables that might replace them come September or October. The weeds were terrible throughout the garden; I got perhaps half of them. I should have mulched right away where I pulled them up to avoid having to do it all over again next week, but that did not happen. I transplanted the giant wormwood that had obscured an 2-foot swath of path. And I watered what needed to be watered.

When the sun began to peek out from over the trees, it was time for me to go. I left plenty undone, plenty to do some other time.

Goodbye, June, Hello, Pictures

2005-06-30T10:57:00.000-04:00

If you were wandering around WeMoon and came to the main entrance of the garden, this is what you'd see. To your left, tomatoes would be tumbling out of their beds, top heavy and seven feet tall. We'd invite you to pick a few, rinse them right there and have a snack, or take them home for a tomato-cheese sandwich on whole wheat. To your right, a few Swiss Chard still going, but just for their own pleasure, as they're basically inedible due to the heat. And straight ahead, in the full-moon bed, you'd see the familiar bearded irises, but also two ginger lilies who decided to come up (finally) and a new sign welcoming you to the Spirit Gardens.

If you picked your way over the wily hose and past the weeds creeping ever closer to the crescent moon bed, you'd get to the bench. And this would be your view. In front of you, you would see that we're trying to establish a mixed Mediterraean herb and succulent bed. The succulents would be in sunk clay pots for easy removal when the frosts come. You might also admire the Georgia collard that keeps on keepin' on -- like the chard, inedible, he nonetheless seems to belong just where he is. And beyond the crescent moon bed you'd see lots more green.

If you got up to take a stroll, you'd eventually come to the separation between the spiral and the full moon bed. It would be crowded, as the wormwood and leeks like to lean over and tread on the path a bit themselves. You'd notice, though, that just behind the leeks, a happy little watermelon is trying very hard to behave and stay right in the spiral's arm. He takes direction pretty well, and even has a few little yellow flowers.

If, when you were leaving, you cast a glance over your shoulder, over the wall, before you got in your car, you might see the dahlias. They're the dark ladies of the garden, but sure do make the bees happy. To the left of the dahlias, cucumbers, and to the right, comfrey, rue, cardinal guard, and lemon balm. Behind the dahlias, very please peppermint, and some astors about to bloom.

We'd hope you had a nice visit, and bid you fare well, with an open invitation to come again any time.

Tomato Trials and Summer Solstice

2005-06-23T08:57:00.000-04:00

On June 12, the Spirit Gardens made a showing at Turkey Hill Farm's Tomato Trials Taste Test. We were growing six of the 13 varieties tested this year; one, the Brown Berry cherry, was a real winner. It had everything you could ask for in a mouth-popper: juicy, tasty, meaty, great color. The others all finished up in the middle of the bunch. We'll be posting our logbook soon for you to see the other results. And in case you're interested, the overall winners for taste were Arkansas Traveller, Pink German, and Silvery Fur Tree.

On June 18, Robin held a plant sale on the grounds, so we acquired a few beauties to add to the garden and the areas that will be landscaped around the new ramp on the north side of the building.

That same day, Spiraling Heart Coven held a public summer solstice celebration at WeMoon. We did a real job getting the garden cleaned up for it that morning. Chores that had been put of for weeks suddenly were attacked with gusto. About 25 people showed up for the ritual, which included dancing with colorful scarves, body painting, sharing of sparkling grape juice and summer breads, and a call-and-response of things we were thankful for at midsummer. The fairies were even invited to join in, and were offered enticing milk with honey and sweetcakes.

I left the ritual full of good cheer and fellowship, but also a bit sad. After the solstice, the days begin to wane, and we move closer to the cold days and long nights of winter. And while it is perfectly natural and in good order that the wheel of time should turn and we all grow older, sometimes it just gets stuck in the back of your throat and you don't really know how you feel about it.

Many, many long, hot days lie between us and winter, though, so in the mean time, you will find us almost daily watering the garden and thankful for the sun that is still above us.

Tomatoes lost

2005-06-11T12:02:00.000-04:00

Things didn't go exactly as planned in the garden this week.

I was not as attendant as I might have been, and when I went to check on things between rain showers today, I found that nearly 70% of our tomato crop was ravaged by worms or had fallen to the soggy ground beneath it to be ravaged by slugs. I was able to gather a small basket full to bring to the taste tests tomorrow, but I was disappointed that I had not been more vigilant in this most crucial stage.

The force of the rains had beat down many of the other plants, but to others, it was exactly what they needed. The butterfly bush, sages, impatients, nasturtiums, and marigolds all shone, and the ginger lily that was one of the very first things planted in the garden has finally made its appearance in the full moon bed.

Gardens on Display

2005-06-06T09:58:00.000-04:00

How pleased was I this Saturday to learn that Spiraling Heart Coven is going to be using WeMoon's spaces (including the Spirit Gardens!!) for an open-to-the-public Litha ritual on June 18! I feel like the space has been aching for magic, and while women (and maybe even men) may come by other times and bless the gardens with their own presence and meditations, I actually KNOW about this one! So we're doing our best to make the garden walker-friendly. And in preparation of having more visitors, we've added a guest book to the garden's webpage in the hopes that y'all will tell us what the garden means to you!

The poison ivy is gone, and many of the plants that had kind of leaned over into the path are tied back up or pruned back. The tomatoes are being brave in the face of an onslaught of worms and caterpillars -- thanks to Paty and Bonnie for donating the organic pesticide and fertiliser. We have small zinnias coming up in the crescent moon bed as well as a few daisies, and the watermelon that we planted in the middle of the spiral seems to be quite happy. Anna planted two pretty little moonflowers on either side of the great hoop -- we're hoping to be able to train it to spiral around and climb the sides. How pretty that would be!

I am learning a lot about limitations in the garden. I find that I get tired and hungry and thirsty after just an hour of work -- it is a good reminder to eat a hearty breakfast, bring a water bottle, wear a sunhat, and take breaks! I am used to being a work horse, and this ebb and flow of vitality is totally new to me. It is a realization that I, like every other living thing, have rhythms that are best not to ignore.

Signs of Summer

2005-05-30T22:54:00.000-04:00

A beautiful, light rain fell this afternoon, the kind that leaves a mist hanging heavy in the air through which the sun sets. I know it made the garden happy -- it’s amazing the difference between a good hose watering and an adequate rain shower. There’s something more complete and nurturing to a plant about rain; you can see it right away. The greens fairly glow, and you’d swear every rain drop opened a spot of soil for a weed or planted seed to pop up in.

And while I look forward to these warm, late-spring showers, I must say I am less enthralled by some other signs of summer coming. Something is turning tomato leaves into brown lace, and burrowing holes in our earliest-ripening fruits. They are probably two different pests, and are probably different still from the bugs that are munching big holes indiscriminately throughout the garden, but the evidence seemed to appear all at once in these past few weeks full of mid-eighties days and occasional thunderstorms.

But still the planting goes on. Robin donated two dozen plants late last week, almost all of which we’ve found homes for. We used a bunch of them to start back up the little bed next to the east side of the bottle wall that had gotten kind of overlooked and neglected for a while. In fact, the plants who lived there ended up meeting a sad end -- in their disguise among Virginia Creeper and poison ivy, they got weed-wacked. So we planted up a bunch of four o’clocks, a few shrimp plants, a comfrey, and a pineapple sage and promised to take better care this time around.

In our effort to take better care in general, we’ve stepped up the weeding effort and even utilized some organic insecticides on the tomatoes. We’re also being less emotional about fading plants -- in their weakened states, they attract bugs, so up they come.

On a happier note, Kitty Kerner has written a review of Michael Pollan’s Botany of Desire that will be published in next month’s Apalachee Tortoise. I just finished editing the review, and thoroughly enjoyed remembered how much I liked the book when I read it a few years ago. It’s at both the public and the university library should you be inspired to pick it up (and I think you will).

Getting into shape

2005-05-23T10:32:00.000-04:00

Three of us, Anna, cracker-jack gardener/first-time visitor Nancy, and to a lesser extent, myself, spent Saturday morning getting the garden into shape. We spread some of the new compost and mulch around in the beds, added many weeds to the compost pile, planted up Nancy's donated comfrey and rue in the spiral, pulled up the rest of the collards, de-wormed the couple of tomatoes that were being munched, and otherwise tried to tidy up and get things back in order. We have some pretty flowers at the moment: cosmos, nasturtium, sweet peas, squash and zucchini, pineapple sage and butterfly bush. And everything green looks lush and happy.

The itchy labrynth

2005-05-16T09:30:00.000-04:00

Suzanne, a beautiful friend who drops by the garden occasionally while at WeMoon, remarked to me recently that while she was walking through the labrynth, she had to sidestep poison ivy. This did not strike me as the best conditions under which to meditate, or even to walk. Suzanne is a dancer, and is very graceful. I am neither, and so I know I would end up with itchy feet and a bad temper. Therefore the focus of this Saturday's open gardening, and perhaps next Saturday's, too, is to get the spiral in shape, and maybe even fully planted. In the mean time, you may want to consider wearing wooly socks and long pants.

Tomato Stakes

2005-05-11T11:41:00.000-04:00

If you have been by the garden lately, perhaps you noticed that our tomatoes were a little... shorter than most. Not having 10 6' lengths of ribar threaded with rope or sufficiently large tomato cages to contain them, they had fallen over and began acting more like the vines that they are. This was not good for the tomatoes or our garden -- when tomato leaves come in contact with the soil, they become incredibly susceptible to soil-borne diseases, and one risks losing the whole plant. Furthermore, being fairly heavy and sprawly, then were suffocating and pushing around other nearby plants. But there they lay for two or three weeks, waiting for the support that simply was not manifesting. As the days went on and the tomatoes grew fruit, I became very nervous. I was worried that our trial would be a total failure, and I'd have to explain to the other growers that our results weren't exactly reliable since we didn't do the best job we could have with the plants. And then! MaryLou, my mom, came to visit me. While we both were weeding Saturday morning I mentioned the staking problem to her, and she quietly slipped away and found a big stick. Next thing I knew, the tomotoes were all supported -- gently tied to sticks buried beside them, but not interfering with their roots. Not a single plant is sagging now, and here four days after they were tied up, they are thriving. Thanks be to moms!

May

2005-05-01T13:56:00.000-04:00

Today is May Day. Yesterday, on the last day of April, it rained. The familiar smell of garlic in the garden, one that I once only associated with spaghetti night, was heavier and thicker than ususal. I have come to love that smell.

The Spirit Gardens were forgiving of our neglect. Two weeks of sun, wind, and rain did its job, and the plants continued to grow. Some, the tomatoes particularly, outgrew our expectations -- unstaked, they leaned and then fell ontop of one another, then grew again up and toward the warmth and light. They are wild now, and I will feel a slight regret at having to pull them tall again and into straight, tidy rows.

We pulled the oldest collards, added them to the compost pile, and left their space empty. We, and the bed, needed some time to think what would come next for that soil in that space.

April negligence brings...

2005-04-16T22:01:00.000-04:00

My apologies to WeMoon Spirit gardening women who have been put off by this month’s squirrely open-gardening schedule. April is a busy month for me with the end of the semester and Burning Bush, and I’m afraid I have not been as present in the Spirit Gardens as I would like, Saturday mornings being particularly tough. May promises to be more stable, and I am quite sure that the beds will have plenty to complain about then and will need us to listen and respond kindly.

That being said, I did stop by late this afternoon to water and check on things. Thanks to whomever planted the mints and parslies in the spiral! What perfect plants to help fill in that lonely looking bed! I haven’t had the heart to pull up the collards or chard. They are becoming tough and increasingly inedible, but they are proving to be such under-rated ornamentals. If they can stand the late-spring heat, we may leave them a while longer. The peas have developed a strange affliction which I have yet to diagnose: they are yellowing and paling, their pods are swelling, and have brown spots around them. They may have to come up here pretty soon as they are right next to our Hillbilly Potato Leaf tomatoes.

The tomatoes are just beautiful. Many are developing their ‘Y’ shape, which means trellising will have to come shortly. We’re planning on using the “Florida weave,” and if that intrigues you, good! Stay posted and come by to take a look when it’s all done.

Dark purple irises are gorgeous and 4 feet tall in the full moon bed. Calendulas are blooming like crazy in a palette of yellows, oranges, and creams with bright to brown centers. Butterflies and bees are becoming more frequent visitors, as are women! So glad you are stopping by, and hope you’ll be enticed to spend a few hours in the dirt in the coming weeks!

A Hard Rain Fell

2005-04-02T21:55:00.000-05:00

Well all that glorious rain did fairly little damage to the gardens. We have lost all the lettuce tops, though. They toppled over onto the tomato plants, so we had to cut them way down. A few calendula plants tipped over, too, but since they aren’t really bothering anyone, we’ll just see if they can keep blooming anyway. And it looks like a few marigold sprouts got beat back into the ground. But there are plenty more to take their places.

Today we top-dressed the tomatoes -- a big heap of compost to fill the little saucers they had been planted in. Last week’s potted up Silvery Fur Tree tomatoes looked especially good. I’m worried that one of the Brown Berries and one of the German Striped are not getting enough sun; it was about noon before they really saw any, and the trees are only going to get fuller and more shading. But maybe that will be a good variable to keep an eye on during the trials.

One of the pea vines had grown quite yellow, and the pods were swollen with brown spots on them. I don’t know what got at him, but I pulled him up. He was our first casualty to disease.

Thanks to Lori, who came by and weeded, planted a bunch of Tahiti Hot Pepper seeds and 12 plugs of mixed basil seeds. She knows a friend of a friend who is giving away acclimated Tallahassee roses (apparently this guy just has more than he can find room for), so drop me an email if you’d be interested. We’re thinking of taking as many as he’ll give and putting them up at WeMoon for anyone who wants.

Evidence of Spring

2005-03-28T11:51:00.000-05:00

Well if the pollen, the small yellowish-green leaves on all the trees, the 80-degree temperatures, and the post-7 p.m. sundowns haven’t convinced you that winter is gone for another nine months, then stop by the Spirit Gardens to see what our babies have to tell you about spring.

There are tiny marigolds sprouts peeking out from all through the tomato beds -- they just barely have their first set of real leaves, all serrated and deep green on reddish stems. Bonnie’s squash, zucchini, and daikon rashishes are up, too, as well as the bunch of nasturtiums that I thought had fallen asleep. Do stop by and see them -- they are just behind the calendula (pot marigolds), and their two little pre-leaves look exactly like cartoon duck feet.

We’ve transplanted some sprouted zinnias and dahlias just east of the peas, although I think I may have rushed them a bit getting into the ground, and I’m not sure they’re all going to pull through. In the new flower bed next to the wall on the very east side of the garden, three four o’clocks are making do, as well as a hydrangea and of course our hearts a’bustin’ shrub. And for the companion planting workshop this past weekend, we planted a hyssop, a scented geranium, and a mint near the tomatoes.

We’ll be sad to see the collards and lettuce go as the weather turns from sunny and cool to sunny and hot -- the collards are already growing tough, and the lettuce has started to wilt and bend to the ground. In the next two weeks, we’ll probably be replacing them with eggplant, okra, and cucumbers. We didn’t get the sweet peas to bloom in time this year -- they’re a hard vine to grow in our area with such a tiny window of the kind of weather they like best -- so we have something to try again next year, perhaps a little earlier.

Hey Ladies! Nice Tomatoes!

2005-03-12T18:42:00.000-05:00

A girl can dream, can't she? Although they are now just 4 inches high, our 24 tomato plants in 8 varieties will soon enough be bearing fruit in ripe peach with red shoulders, apricot, green and yellow stripes, red with yellow speckles, brown, purple, and yes, plain bright red. They will have shapes like baseballs, sausages, walnuts, and tiny bean bag chairs. They will tower over children's heads and be just a little high for a rabbit to reach.

Thanks to Lauren and Katie, first-time Spirit Gardeners and tomato planting extraordinaires, we got all of them in the ground and off to a good start.

We're so pleased to be able to take part in these Tomato Trials, not only because we are supporting Turkey Hill Farm, but because we are adding to the scholarship of sustainable living and biodiversity. We're going to be taking notes throughout the whole growing process to find out which heirloom varieties do best here in Tallahassee, but also to be able to share with others what we did well, what we futzed, and what innovations we made to overcome obstacles.

Such information is useful on an astonishing number of levels. Imagine that "Organic Vegetable Growing 101" were part of every, say, 7th grade science and ecology class in Tallahassee. (I'm dreaming here, so allow me the "ecology" part.) Armed with that know-how, perhaps 50 percent of the residents would grow 20 percent of their own vegetables on their property, in pots on their balconies, or in FAMU's community gardens.

And then what would happen?

* Our reliance on chain-store produce would decrease significantly, forcing Publix or Super-WalMart to rethink destroying that oak stand and wetlands to build yet another mega-super-storeparkinglot.

* Tallahassee residents would significanly decrease the amount of pesticides they injest every day, and combined with their increased consumption of irresistibly tasty and good-for-you vegetables, would lead the nation in physical health.

* There would be no such thing as a food shortage in the Second Harvest Food Bank, and our homeless and hidden homeless would have full bellies, just like the rest of us. Of course, the working poor and near-homeless, with the means of proper nutrition at their disposal, would need less state-sponsored medical care and therefore "cost" taxpayers less.

* In a worst-case scenario following a foreign relations botch job, Tallahasseeans would have a most basic and valued survival skill.

So we have high hopes for these Tomato Trials. But I don't think they are too high. There is something about gardening that makes one feel very powerful, and very much a part of the good and the bad things that happen on the earth.

Drop by periodically as our plants grow tall, and whisper your hopes to them. We like big dreams in the Spirit Garden.

Year

2005-03-08T11:19:00.000-05:00

When a person decides they want to commit themselves to paganism as a religion, they begin a process known as the “year and a day.” The individual studies, ask questions, keeps a journal, and pays close attention to thoughts and feelings along the spiritual journey during this time, as well as what is happening in the natural world around them. Plugging into the rhythms of the earth, such as the passing of seasons throughout the calendar year, is one of the most important aspects of the religion.

I thought of that today when I made the first entry into the garden journal that Paty just donated to the Spirit Gardens. This will be my first full year tending a garden. Have I paid attention to the changing seasons? Have I attended to the hours of daylight, the texture of the soil, the smell of the leaves? What have I learned? What have I changed?

It is almost impossible to not be in the moment in a garden. You are just there, in the garden, as the sun is changing your skin and the plants, as the blossoms fade and fall, as the new leaves unfurl in yellow-greens, as the wind sweeps past the back of your neck with what can almost be called a chill, and as the soil parts for hungry earth worms. And so sometimes the cycle itself is hard to see.

For that reason, it is good to write, record, and reflect on what is happening. I am thankful to Paty for giving us the journal. We will now know what we see and feel, but also where we’ve been, and what we might see and do when the world turns this way again.

Harvesting

2005-03-03T11:34:00.000-05:00

How splendid that we just had a little frost! The garden's greens should be sweet for the Gathering of Women Potluck tonight. I think the lettuces could use a little snipping, too, and I know there are at least four or five beets that could be pulled.

This whole concept of harvesting is fairly new to me. At the time I had no basis for comparison, but I've since realized that my previous attempts at growing vegetables have been only marginally successful to say the least! I thought I was doing well to get two jalapenos off of my pepper plant last year, one pretty good sized eggplant, and maybe two handfuls of cherry tomatoes. There was no reason to "keep up" with the food -- I simply waited for the one thing to ripen, then plucked it off. I had no idea the bounty that could result from an organic, carefully and lovingly tended garden!

I've learned so much by simply showing up every week or so and stopping by to water and weed in between. And I have to remind myself that this was just our winter garden -- the tomatoes, squash, zucchini, eggplant, herbs, okra, cucumbers, watermelon, cantaloupe, onions, and leeks are still to come!

My confidence in myself as a gardener has grown almost as fast as the collards -- I truly believe that with just a few resources and a small sunny patch, I could grow a good percentage of my own food. That's a pretty good feeling.

Needing new beds

2005-02-22T16:43:00.000-05:00

Things are coming up, things are opening, things are growing green and tall and happy in the Spirit Gardens. We have such plans! We're on board to be a Tomato Trial garden for Turkey Hill Farms this spring, so plan on seeing no less than 24 tomato plants in a whopping 8 different varieties beginning mid March. We have started many of the flower seeds; I just noticed this morning that the Bishop's Children Dahlias and the Moss Roses have sprouted. And of course there is the steady supply of hodge-podge plants that we get from the Tallahassee Garden Club's plant exchange each month. In fact, we have so much we want to get in the ground that we are scrambling to start new beds. We finished two on Saturday and started a big third one. And this Saturday we'll be creating our compost pile. After that, our garden will know NO BOUNDS!!!

Calendula

2005-02-18T09:35:00.000-05:00

I stopped by the garden yesterday after two weeks away, and I was so pleased to find that one of the calendulas had bloomed! I had never planted calendula, and just following the directions on the back of the seed packet, plunked a few seeds in the ground in November. They weren't a bit bothered by the frosts, and steadily grew taller and bushier until finally, some time in the last 11 or 12 days, one showed its pretty yellow face. I read an article online about how to save their seeds: You wait until the flower is wilted and a little dry, then you pluck it and gently shake it out and separate the seed from the chaff. That's good to know since I promptly lost the seed packet after planting just those five.

Two more irises bloomed. They are the same ghostly white-lavender as the first one. The collards, beets, and swiss chard are thriving, as are the garlic chives and society garlic. Paty and Bonnie came by last weekend and planted two rows of onions. I think we're going to do the Turkey Hill tomatoes just behind them (onions and tomatoes are good companion plants).

And, perhaps a little late, I'm going to start a garden journal for the Spirit Gardens. It will probably be just notes and facts -- dates things were planted, how they look, sketches of the beds, etc. I feel like that information would be out of place here in the blog, but is important to keep track of for subsequent years. The book can be kept at WeMoon as a reference.

We're planning on putting out a few of the more hearty plants this Saturday -- sages, a mock organe tree, hydrangea, and others.

"Just Because" festival and Work Day

2005-02-08T11:31:00.000-05:00

What fun it was this weekend in Madison! Several Spirit Gardeners made their way out there -- me, Anna, Paty, Bonnie -- as well as some of our local organic gardening gurus such as Herman and Louise Holley of Turkey Hill Farm and Cynthia Connelly of LadyBird Organics. Cynthia gave an outstanding talk on the wonders of wheatgrass, and Herman shared some good growing tips. We also caught presentations on organic pest management and planning a spring garden. Of course, walking around B's greenhouse, we got an armload of good ideas (and some plants).

Don't forget to come out for the "WeMoon-ifestation" work party on Saturday, February 12, from about 9 to about 2. We needs lots of help getting the house, grounds, and garden ready for spring!

Spring Seeds

2005-02-05T19:26:00.000-05:00

The seeds came in! In what must have been a fit of gloominess on some lonely, dark day a couple of weeks ago, I ordered (too many) seeds for the Spirit Gardens. They are all spring flowers (not a respectable vegetable among them) and they are all Very Bright. I was obviously trying to cheer myself up when I placed the order; I don't really remember what I was thinking, but whatever it was, I'm glad, because if these guys come up HALF as boisterous as they look in the pictures, we will have nary a frown among us come June. Or maybe May. I didn't exactly plan for staggered blooming, so we'll just have to see what comes up when it comes up. I ordered them from www.seedsavers.org, which has the most wonderful ideas about saving the diversity of the earth's flora, and therby saving the future of humankind.

In addition to the sunny flowers, I have several seeds that I got from a seed saving workshop last year at New Leaf Market. The farmer who gave the workshop was named Tommy Simms, and his farm is called Bellevue Gardens. He shared a variety of cucumber called "Alabama Rambler," his famous "Scarlet Sweet" watermelon, okra, tangerines (that grow north of Gainesville), cataloupe, a special kind of butternut-like squash, and several kinds of sunflowers from his patch. (I'll put his information on the webpage -- you will want to get some seeds from him for sure.)

So that should give us quiet a good little start. Our last frost is usually around March 15, so we're planning our before- and after-plantings now. If you find yourself with an extra seedling or two come March, bring it by on some Saturday morning -- we'll find a place for it!

Boxwood gets a new look

2005-01-31T09:49:00.000-05:00

With the help of chilled but enthusiastic apprentice pruners, the boxwood made the switch Saturday from a never-quite-him flattop to a beautiful soft, bouncy natural.

After hearing Martha gently and precisely present the basic tenants of pruning, workshop attendees observed the boxwood for some time, waiting for his own shape and texture to suggest the right style. The apprentice pruners circled the hedge, talking and touching the gray branches and tiny green leaves; the boxwood sat patiently and never once complained about being made to wait in 40-degree weather. Finally, it was settled: The end shape would be rounded all over with a wave pattern leading up to the crown. Each cut was carefully considered beforehand and examined afterward to make sure it led to the agreed-upon end.

At 11, with cold-stiff fingers and slightly runny noses, the apprentices put down their shears. Even through the hazy drizzle, the boxwood beamed. He looked fabulous. We think he actually tried to hug Anna, but as it happened so quickly, it was hard to tell.

Just a reminder: no open gardening next week because all of the gardeners are going to the O’Toole’s “Just Because” festival. See www.otoolesherbfarm.com for more information.

Sanseviera trifasciata

2005-01-23T11:06:00.000-05:00

This is a Sanseviera trifasciata. Did you read real quick past the Latin? I did too. Most people find the botanical names of plants clunky and hard to remember. You more likely know this plant by the common name, "Snake Plant," or by its most common common name, "Mother-in-law's tongue."

You see why I started with the Latin.

Common names for plants are funny. How does one put a human language to a plant? It means crossing from the world of semantics into the world of nature, into a language of wind in trees, scuttles of ground creatures, bird songs, thunder claps, and silent signals that we are only just beginning to understand. So when people assign common names to plants, it usually says more about the namers than the named.

Take for example this one, Euonymous americana, aka "Hearts-a-bustin'."

Could anyone have named this plant who had never loved? Who had never been so completely filled with joy and love and light that her own heart nearly thumped out of her chest?

There is much in a name. Some cultures believe names to be so powerful that they have two names, one for everyday use and another kept private so that no harm can come to them through it. Names are one of the ways we store and access information in our memories. They conjure up pictures and associations, and help us orient ourselves in our earthly realities.

Is Sanseviera trifasciata called "Mother-in-law's tongue" because it is sharp and sinister-looking with its dark stripes and extremely upright orientation? Has the name persisted because the correlation of plant to name rings true for our culture? I hope not. So we're not going to use that name. Henceforth, in the Spirit Gardens this will be our “Happy Snake Plant.” Maybe even our "Sky-reaching Snake Plant." (This renaming thing could be fun!) We’ll be potting her up soon and tucking her back with the ferns and other shade-loving tropicals in the east end of the garden, in the new bed we prepared yesterday.

Pictures

2005-01-18T11:36:00.000-05:00

After all the talk, I thought you may like to see what the garden looks like with all the bottles buried.

In the first picture, you can see the spiral beds, the circle bed full of irises, and in the lower right-hand corner, a few very happy little lettuces. Above the lettuces we have a row of sweet peas and sugar snap peas, which we will soon have to trellis.

In the second picture, you get another view of the circle bed, and beyond that, the crescent moon bed with beets, collards, and swiss chard. To the left you can see the lettuce again, and the lightest green plants are calendulas. To the right, a bed newly planted with more lettuce, carrots, and kale.

Apology, Worms, and Bottles

2005-01-16T23:22:00.000-05:00

My number one New Year’s resolution was to be good to my body. I found that a kinder way to phrase “lose weight.” So, in an attempt to integrate exercise into my everyday (instead of separating an “exercise” time from a “living the rest of my life” time), I rode my bike to the garden on Saturday. I live at the top of one hill in Tallahasse, and WeMoon is at the top of another. That is to say that I arrived huffing and puffing, 20 minutes late, and with a heart rate that took twice that long to return to “resting.” I offer this by way of apology. If anyone came at 10 to an empty garden, you probably passed me swearing and pushing my bike up Mahan; I’m so sorry I missed you.

I finally found the family of squirmy culprits who had been eating holes in the collard leaves. Surprisingly, even though there was weird web-stuff around them, and they had goopy brown stuff on their heads (or rear ends? ew), I was not so completely grossed out. I saw them rather as a sign that this was a real garden, complete with resident pests. I did not have the heart or stomach to kill them, so I just cut of the leaf that they were living on and carried it over to a wildish spot on the edge of the property. That may have been a poor gardening decision, but I’m hoping it was good gardening karma.

We buried the last of the bottles this week! Next week, we’ll be breaking ground again on a new bed, tentatively reserved for bulbs and tubers. Bring your shovels and gloves!

First Workshop and New Website

2005-01-14T16:55:00.000-05:00

Hello, ladies (and gents? who knows...)!

Well we have a new website dedicated solely to the Spirit Gardens. It's designed to tell people more about what we do and to give information on our monthly workshops, WHICH BEGIN ON JANUARY 29!!!! Hooray!

www.geocities.com/wemoonspirit/gardens.html

The Iris

2005-01-08T18:14:00.000-05:00

I suppose I don’t need to remind you that it is January. I, however, was mildly surprised and annoyed when I woke up this morning to 70-degree, balmy weather. Although I love (love) living in North Florida, I sometimes long for picturesque, icy landscapes, or at least cool weather systems that come and sit for a spell instead of breezing by on the way to the Atlantic. And of course, we can thank global warming for making truly brisk Tallahassee winters a thing of the past.

So I was grumpy when I got in the (sticky) car, and I was grumpy driving to WeMoon. And then I arrived, and I was greeted by a single most perfectly ruffly white-yellow iris. The “uncharacteristically” warm weather had fooled the flower into coming out, and there she stood, tall and proud and elegant, and refusing to apologize for showing up so unexpectedly and for being so overdressed for such a modest and properly winterish garden.

On one hand, I find it frightening and sad that our climate is changing. I know the earth and its climate are always changing, but some of the biggest changes are made by human actions, and without considering the health of the earth or its other creatures. On the other hand, I feel it is neccessary to strike a balance between living in the now and living for the future; when I relax the notion that January ought to mean a set of very specific circumstances, I am free to enjoy the pluck of this first-ever bloom in the WeMoon Spirit Gardens.

Although we may carry signs and write letters and join citizens' groups to demonstrate our committment to helping the earth, we also must continue to love and laugh and live well ON the earth. When I think of this, feeling the sweat on my skin as I weed, seeing the white flower as big as a fist out of the corner of my eye no matter where I am in the garden, I feel a renewed. Yes, there is genuine and immediate need to take action to improve our environment. Yes, taking that path is tough, but there will be beautiful and surprising things that happen on the way. I refuse to live with my head either in the clouds or stuck in the sand. I made a mental pledge to come here on Saturday mornings with the intent to work in harmony with a small patch of the earth, but also to open my heart to her messages of joy, love, and light.

There is a green plastic two-seat bench in the garden, and if you are the type to seek out the company of particularly communicative flowers, then I would invite you to take a lunch or a book there some time this week. I hope you, too, are surprised and renewed by what you see and feel.

Workshops to Begin

2005-01-04T23:42:00.000-05:00

Well gardeners, I'm delighted to tell you that our series of workshops is set to begin in the end of January. More details are to come, but right now it looks like we will hold a monthly one-hour workshop on Saturday mornings consisting of general and season-specific gardening skills, hands-on and seminar-type learning, and the kind guidance of Master Gardener Martha Weinstein. Keep an eye on the WeMoon calendar for the next update, and pencil in 10 - 11 A.M. on January 29!

Sugary Greens

2004-12-19T15:23:00.000-05:00

Honestly, what plant is more hearty than a Georgia Collard? It is quite possibly the most robust, tenacious vegetable I have ever had the pleasure to have grown. We have about six right now, and their leaves are thick, erect, and a beautiful muted green. I'm excited for the freeze -- cold snaps supposedly change the chemical compound of the leaves and increase the sugar. It's no wonder collards became a staple of the Southern diet. Anyone care to share a collard recipe? It seems every Southern family has a blue-winning favorite...

This week in the garden

2004-12-14T14:25:00.000-05:00

This past Saturday, while looking forward to the Living Feast, I enjoyed the prospect of a feast from the garden. The spinach had just peeked out of the ground. The lettuce was still hiding, but the peas were up. (I think that pea sprouts are the most beautiful green I've ever seen.) Some of the new beets had come up, but none of the new chard. Several of the collards were doing well, but a few had been worm-eaten. And the irises (or lilies? we're not sure...), although not edible, were looking beautiful.

I hope to do more planting this weekend -- sweet peas can go into the ground now, and we'll probably see about some more vegetables. And, as always, weeding, watering, and burrying of bottles! Our first real frost of the season is supposed to hit tonight. I hope the plantlets are feeling sturdy...

The Hungry Mouse

2004-12-04T22:57:00.000-05:00

The air was dry and cool when I arrived this morning. The worms, disturbed by my weeding and planting of seeds, were slow to recoil and find cover: It must be winter. The three sages that I planted last week were shriveled and gray. I did not pull them up, but cut them back and watered them, because I have found sages to be remarkably stout of heart.

I found the packages of winter seeds that I had left a few weeks ago, and noticed that someone had carefully chewed a hole through the package of beet seeds. I imagined a house mouse with a midnight-snack attack for something sinfully red and starchy, and being a clever mouse, choosing the beets specifically to satisfy that hankering, but how those lumpy seeds that look like little meteors must have been sadly disappointing to her, and how she must have been so upset that she lost her appetite and went back to bed without tasting any of the other seeds. Because really, who hasn't been there?

The spinach went in the ground today, as did the Echinacea and more Swiss Chard, because for some reason only two or three of the first planting ever came up. I pulled back the thick layer of broken-down leaves to make places for these tiny seeds, and was surprised by how moist and temperate the earth beneath that mulch was. It seemed like such a safe and wonderful place for a seed to be.

I watered just before I left, a ritual that I look forward to both because it brings to a close hours deliciously spent and because it makes me feel necessary to these plants in this space. And as I watered I thought of the seeds I had just planted. Some would sleep for months longer and others awoke as soon as they felt the soil around them. I thought of the earth where they slept, and where I slept, and how often I think of the two as different when really, it is both our beds.

Blast from the Past

2004-11-22T13:31:00.000-05:00

I thought I would share a WAY before picture that I lifted from the www.wemoonspirit.com website archives, so that we could see just how FAR we've come:

Wow! Right?

This weekend's arts and crafts fair was a hit -- the weather held up for us and the garden shone its beautiful best. And we *may* have tantalized a few prospective gardeners to come for our Saturday womanifestation parties!

So I need to share something wonderful. It's the Tallahassee Garden Club's monthly plant exchange, and you can read all about how wonderful it is in Kitty Kerner's article in the October, 2004, Tortoise. (Find it at www.tallyimc.org.)
I walked away from the plant exchange with two beautiful coral sages, a butterfly bush, a big pineapple sage, a few swamp sunflowers, two kumquat trees, several types of lilies and irises, and a tiny kanachoe. I found places for the little darlings in the garden because they were none too happy to have been out of the ground for several hours. Their homes are not permanent, mind you; there is still much planning to be done with regards to the layout and design of the beds. But they at least have somewhere to sleep this winter.

And when I was interring them, I found another of those pretty pinkish snakes, tiny as a worm, just beneath the mulch cover. A google search suggested that this little friend may indeed be a "Worm Snake," but the pictures weren't an exact match so I'm still not sure.

Ready for Arts and Crafters

2004-11-15T21:25:00.000-05:00

We've been working overtime to ready the garden for visitors this weekend, and the effort has truly paid off. We have beds outlined in bottles, mushroom compost and mulch covering layers of loose soil, paths marked by thick layers of rust-colored pine straw, and borders of fragrant garlic chives, society garlic, and hearty lariope. Which raises the question: What next? After the arts and crafts festival, when the garden is again quiet, what will we be waiting for?

What about a class on growing your own medicinal herbs taking root in the bed the follows the bottle wall? Or one on companion planting filling in the crescent moon? Or what about a trial butterfly bed along the main path, practice for the next garden that will go on the north side of the property? Might the mosaic class venture into stepping stones, and will some of those stones adorn our humble footpaths? Is there a handbuiling or found-object sculpture class in the future? What better gallery than the garden to showcase such art. Does anyone know how to do topiary? Espaliers?

We'll keep the ideas stewing this winter, and won't be discouraged when things cool off and slow down. We are like Echinacea seeds: sometimes we need a hard freeze to make us remember to wake up and share our splendor with the world when the time is right.

Gardeners in Spirit

2004-11-08T01:21:00.000-05:00

We're getting a touch lonely here in our virtual garden ... Do you have suggestions or questions? Want to make a comment or respond to something you read in a post? Care to share your favorite gardening links or tips? We'd love to hear from the readers of this blog! Simply click on "comments" at the bottom of the post and start writing.

The Saturday of Getting Much Done

2004-11-06T21:20:00.000-05:00

Saturday was bright, and crisp as an apple. Probably in the sixties when we arrived, warmed up to maybe low seventies by the time we wandered away at 2 or so. It seemed every time you turned around, something was finished up and something else was in the middle of getting done. We had more pairs of hands than gloves and tools, and what a difference it made.

Our work from weeks ago paid off in spades. The soil was so loose and loamy (having already been turned and mixed with compost) that to define the beds with bottles, all we had to do was pick a place and push down. The beds look like they are surrounded by jewels -- emeralds, peridots, clear crystal, garnet, onyx, amber, and citron -- hopefully defining the beds and plants as precious and not to be tread upon!

Here are a few pictures to give you an idea:

Picture Post

2004-11-05T13:11:00.000-05:00

Looking east across the main path and garden bed:

From the southwest corner of the garden, over the bottle wall:
(You can really see the outline of the beds in this one -- compare it to the preliminary sketch below!)

The garden entrance from the main path, with stepping stone and hose guide:

We have sprouts. We have a nip in the air and moisture on the way. We have a third quarter moon for this weekend -- good time for weeding and cultivating. We have innovation, creativity, hard work, and beautiful energy.Things are good in the garden of WeMoonSpirit.

(Thanks to Paty, whose lovely images let us "visit" the garden any time we like :)! )

Borders!

2004-10-30T15:02:00.000-04:00

I have been away from the garden for two weeks, so imagine my surprise when I returned to a beautiful lariope border on the north side of the garden path, and a line of lush garlic chives marking the south side. Anna, Paty, and Bonny have been busy!! Check out this picture, taken from the east parking lot on October 23:

That's Bonny just beginning the garlic chive border. Doesn't the dappled sun, whimsical arch, and winding path just make you want to jump into the photograph? I have this vision of the garden in fairy-tale splendor, and each little seed and donated plant brings the reality of that vision that much closer.

So this morning we

began a society garlic border along the south edge of the garden, next to the bottle wall;
weeded and thinned out the seedlings in the crescent moon bed;
surrounded that bed with half-buried bottles to really make the border stand out (and because it looks way cool);
planted a few more nasturtiums and a little section of calendula;
de-snakerooted and covered a big chunk of the spiral;
watered;
weeded;
gabbed;
talked politics;
and told jokes (weeding with Eleanor was a treat -- she has a handful of good ones!).

If you happen to be driving by in the next week, stop by and spend a few minutes in the "before" garden -- it's cheery and optimistic, even in its pauciy. And come by Saturday, November 6, for our next womanfiestation. (Haha -- that was supposed to be "womanifestation," but I like that "fiesta" is in the middle of the typo -- we'll keep it ;)! )

Want some spring color??? Plant it now!

2004-10-24T18:13:00.000-04:00

Greetings, dear wemoongardeners!
Turning the ground, seeing those grand worms, nurturing our mother earth. Truly is a remarkable time to connect with her. I love that we can plant seeds or tender young plants in the cooler weather (early November is best, I think) that give us grand splashy colors come spring. Seeds to get now for a cool weather planting are poppies, larkspur, and dyanthus. Or, if you're wary of seeds and prefer plants, check with the local nurseries to find out when they carry young seedlings of any of these. There's a small window of opportunity to get these. The master gardener program through the Leon County Extension Office encourages us to plant these beauties now (and does so in their demonstration garden) for splendor in the spring. I was skeptical until I saw for myself how exquisitely luxurious these beauties are. Breathtaking!

In November, too, for those of you who have caladium plants, you'll want to dig up those bulbs and let them dry a bit. Store them in a dry place (brown paper bags are lovely for this) and then replant them in the spring. A friend has encouraged me to do this and assures me that he has had excellent success - in other words, it is worth the extra time. Besides, you can bring some of those bulbs to wemoonspirit gardens come spring.

For now, there are some wonderful vegies, fruits and herbs you can plant. Strawberries can be put in in mid to late October (now!). They grow through the winter and give you succulent berries in the spring. Other vegies to plant (according to Katherine LaRosa, a master gardener who compiles "This month in the Tallahassee Garden" published in the Master Gardener newsletter) are mustard, spinach, celery and Chinese cabbage. Throughout October, you can plant beets, broccoli, brussels sprouts, and so much more! Herbs for this time of year include parsley, oregano, sage, thyme, rosemary, and sweet marjoram. Cilantro loves the cold and then in the spring, let it go to seed! It will give you an abundance of coriander seeds with a completely delightful flavor for cookies, sauces, and other dishes.

Something unique to try (from the same newsletter contributed by Cindy Horning), are nasturtiums. They are grown here as a fall and winter annual. The best place to plan them is along a south facing wall in full winter sun. They bloom best in poor to average soil (too rich soil will produce an abundance of leaves with few flowers). The flowers and bright green leaves are completely edible, having a zesty, peppery flavor. They can be used in salads, sandwiches, egg and pasta dishes, lights stews, sauces and soups. They also make lovely edible garnishes!

On October 30th, there is an open house tour of the demonstration garden at the Extension Office located on Paul Russell Road from 10 a.m. to noon.

Best wishes, dear gardeners!
Martha

2004-10-09T22:02:00.000-04:00

Wonderful Things Happen in the Spirit Gardens

We came again to the Spirit Gardens. Our Saturday ritual now in place. Our commitment shown by being there, steadily, preparing the beds, ridding them of snake root, adding mushroom compost as we go, then covering them with a thick layer of leaf mulch until they are well enough defined from the pathways to be planted.

We know that we are late in getting in the seeds. It's all good. This is a process. It's the process that is the magic, not the product. We are the garden. It is the process that is going on inside us that is the magic.

We work the soil amazed at its richness. For so long it has had the layers of leaves falling upon it, worker bugs and microbes turning them into a dark nutrient laden beauty. There are so many earthworms we laugh at how we can go fishing if we can't get enough food from the garden.

Paty and Bonny showed up to help us out, setting to work in the beds like the seasoned farmers that they are, like the earth loving beings that they are, like the sisters of WeMoon Spirit that they have time and time again proven to be. Teresa and I appreciate that they came to help for a time. We work along, some talk, some quiet. After a time Paty and Bonny go to tend to the broken mailbox, having arrived with a new metal post and box.

Then something extra special happens. A beautiful, tall, slender woman shows up with gloves in hand. She introduces herself as Dana and says that she has come to help. I have never seen her before and my jaw must have dropped. Where did you come from? How did you know about us? Oh! Forgive me! My name is Anna. Sure we can use your help! Here. Come pull out this snake root we've been wrestling with. See how it just sends these bright white roots out along the ground? See how you can find a thicker root at the end of some of the strands that looks like a rattler tail?

Dana gets right to work. Some talk, some quiet. I ask a lot of questions. She reluctantly gives over some answers. Some more quiet. More questions. Eventually we know a few things about each other and a comfort zone is created and enlarged. Dana knows that working the soil feels good. It is good to connect with our Mother. It is good to be on your knees, hands digging in the richness, readying it to receive seed. A number of days down the road we will see the beauty of the seeds sprouting up, then maturing, then in their full glory. The pattern of the beds and paths which we were inspired to help create will show themselves in greens and reds and yellows, in stems, leaves, flowers and fruit, in bugs and butterflies, lizards and toads.

And it is good to work the soil while reflecting on our sorrows, our joys, our memories, our plans, our connection with each other and through one another, with Spirit. I'm so glad that Dana came to the Spirit Gardens. Yes, we need the help, but mostly we need Dana to come joyin with us and tend her garden.

Peace.

Anna

The Process of Gardening

2004-10-02T16:07:00.000-04:00

I was conscious today of the fact that what we are doing right now is not the fun part. It is the hot, hard, dirty part. It is the part that puts blisters on your thumbs and grime under your fingernails and gives you a stiff back the morning after. Today, as I pulled up the sixty-fourth snake root tuber, hit yet another patch of thick camphor root, and noticed that a few weeds had already sprouted in the beds we turned (but did not cover) last week, I felt discouraged, like I was working against nature instead of for or with nature. It was a good time to pause, get a drink, and remember just why I was out there in the dirt.

Anna and I started talking about it, and she said that she believes that gardening is a physical as well as mental process, and one which you undertake with the intention of being steadfast. Gardening, for her, is akin to deciding to take the best care you can of your body: discipline and consistency really count.

That metaphor really made it click for me.

Like practicing healthy eating habits and exercising, the fact that gardening is difficult and ongoing is a given. Also, the results are seldom exactly what you pictured, so you have to be willing to love your intention and your learning process as much as the body or garden you end up with.

Does this make me love the snake root? Not exactly. It makes me love that I am there, in the present, combing the earth for the snake root, removing it, and readying the soil to receive native plants. It makes me love that I now know the difference between three different kinds of earth worms, that I have become brave enough touch grubs, and that the muscles in my arms feel firmer than they did three weeks ago.

This perspective allows me to access the positivism that had gotten a bit lost earlier: I am keeping the idea that what I do matters. It matters to me that butterflies and birds are invited back into our everydays. It matters to me that women who come after me have a place to wander through, thinking and feeling about our earth and its creations. It matters to me that the ground I prepare now might be tended and loved and considered by other women, who may arrive at their own conclusions about their experiences. It matters, for me and for the garden, that I am steadfastly trying to do good work and put good energy into the earth and the air around me.

And because it matters, I can pick my trowel back up and make a little promise to myself that I will be coming back to this garden, back to this mindset, and back to this process, for many Saturdays in the future.

What a Pleasure!

2004-09-26T10:17:00.000-04:00

What a pleasure it is to be finally beginning The Gardens of WeMoon Spirit!

Since its inception in March of 2003 The Gardens have been a vision waiting to unfold. The intention has always been for The Gardens to be a tool for teaching and learning about our connection to the natural world, and for creating a beautiful space for women to enjoy. We are now womanifesting this vision.

The full vision includes the planting and caring for plants, but also using the space for creative interactive art and music, and for quiet space to reflect and rejeuvenate ones spirit.

We intend for Saturday mornings from 10 am to noon or so to be standard times for our working in The Gardens. Before long we will be including lectures on different aspects of gardening in our Saturdays and more Crafty Crones Creations workshops to add to the beauty of The Gardens.

There are many opportunities waiting for any women who hear the calling of The Gardens. We who have begun this womanifestation invite you to come joyin with us and celebrate!

Beds take shape

2004-09-25T20:15:00.000-04:00

Women who were last at WeMoon when the "gardens" were covered with mulch and a weeds are in for a treat. The beds are set – a crescent moon, a wheel, a spiral, and a gently curving border beda that hugs the main path -- with narrow footpaths winding around throughout. Even at this early stage, the garden is drawing attention. A woman leaving this morning’s yoga class stopped to admire the design – she had a labyrinth in her own backyard, and suggested a few plants that might do well in the spiral. The spiral is nearly half done, and the crescent moon is complete and ready to be planted. Anna said something this morning that really resonated with me: It’s amazing how the land responds to just a little care and attention. And it’s so true. The difference is remarkable.

Below is a working sketch of the gardens, to give you an idea of where we hope to go:

The path emerges

2004-09-22T16:34:00.000-04:00

I am behind. Aren't we all behind? So the only hour I had to give to the garden today was early this morning. No so early, but early enough that when I arrived the light was still silver-blue at the edges, the air was wet crisp, and the sun was small. WeMoon was quiet except for the light hum of traffic on Mahan and a few chirping birds. I took in a big, deep breath of some of our first autumn air and felt at once thoughtful and awake. It always feels a little like this to me here -- when I am alone or when there are lawnmowers and women singing and music playing and people laughing, serenity and positive energy seem to be floating about, free for anyone to breath in.

I spent a few minutes stepping lightly around the overturned pots that were marking our tentative path, getting a feel for this garden and what it would soon become, then began raking. Layers of mulch, hay, and newspapers came up, along with the occasional earthworm and even a tiny good luck snake. The snake was only about as long as a finger, and was pink with a cream-colored belly. At first I thought he was the fastest earthworm I'd ever seen, but we soon figured each other out and I took him to a better spot. I raked very carefully after that. Just about when my hour ended, Helen arrived, and dove right in digging the beds. The earth came up dark, with a few ribbons of gray sand. It was beautiful in itself and its potential.

As I drove away I tried to fix that picture in my mind: a gently winding path of dark, loamy soil, not yet a garden exactly, but ready and waiting to receive and nurture seeds and plants. And then I let that image fade, and tried to envision the garden that would emerge after Saturday's "garden pot-luck" gathering. I decided that was a little taxing on the imagination -- who can begin to suppose what can happen when many hands and minds and plants and seeds come together? So I went home to get ready for work, thankful to have started my day with such luxury.

The laying out

2004-09-18T19:00:00.000-04:00

Today we had the first garden meeting at WeMoon. The property is huge, and the task of getting any one piece of it cultivated was daunting But there is a beautiful, rounded wedge-shaped area toward the front of the property that gets a lot of sun and is huge -- 42 feet long and from 18 to 30 feet wide -- that seemed like a likely starting place. It would be the first thing that people saw when they pulled into the parking lot, just behind the bottle wall. Logistics put few restrictions on us; aside from making sure we gave the few trees and their roots some breathing room, we had this whole huge area to design a garden.

So we walked around scratching our heads and bouncing ideas, and eventually decided that we wanted to have two seating areas, a small path for walking around and for kneeling while weeding, and an ecclectic mix of flowering plants, herbs, and vegetables. As shapes came to us, we laid out overturned flower pots to get a feel for 4-foot-wide beds (not too big to reach across) and the kinds of pathways that would be the most useful and leave the most space to gardening. There was a lot of sketching and measuring and discussing, and a lot of moving out of the sun and into the shade. Mid-day brought a bright, hot, sun, and the obligations of Saturday afternoons began tugging on our sleeves. We broke for the day without breaking ground, having a loose plan for the layout, and agreeing to meet again Wednesday morning to actually get dirty.