Gardening | 3 Reasons I love Gardening
I woke up with Justin’s alarm this morning. extra early. He heads out early these days to get to the gym, which I love but I miss starting our mornings together. None-the-less, I didn’t get back to sleep today so I’m tucked in bed, windows open and catching up on emails…
Digging through some photos, I started thinking about why I love gardening so much. It’s a lot of hard work, this year it created a big financial investment and it takes up so much of our time, specifically Justin’s this year. This specific gardening space is one of the first things that really drew me to the property. I’ve never ached to live on land but I’ve always yearned for a big gardening plot. The first summer we lived here I planted everything I could think of and covered the whole area. it grew tall and wide and it satisfied something in me. I wasn’t as intentional with it then as I am now, I watered when I could and left town often. So while the soil was rich and allowed for big leafy greens and did most of the work the flavor of our produce was lacking. The second year I was very pregnant and Justin insisted we pass and the third summer I really started fine tuning the process- making it an experience. Our grow season is short at 7100 feet and it often hails- which can immediately destroy crop.
A few things realized though…
Gardening is for my soul.
It creates space for me to pause. It calls me to stop being busy. Touching the soil of the earth grounds me. It creates space for me to pray… to dwell on thoughts of loved ones. To nurture something else. It creates patience within me because it cannot be rushed and needs consistent care. I find healing down in that little rectangular area and I’m so thankful for it. It deepens curiosity and gives me something new to learn about each season. I’m hopeful for it during it’s dormant months and I’m content in it from start to finish. It creates a rhythm in my life that’s steady and life giving. Finding joy in hard work is therapeutic and no one calls me to it except for myself. I like that.
This Rosemary makes me thing of my sweet Sherry each time that I water it. My best friend’s mama in Eugene grows the tallest and most full Rosemary that I’ve ever seen. I always start with a little bit of it and hope that it will grow like hers. I know she steadily prays for me and mine and I’m reminded of her heart when I see these little babies.
When I think about my childhood, I love the days that I saw my grandma working hard on her extensive flower garden. I’d ask her questions often about why she spends so much time weeding or how did she get them to grow so big. She spent hours in the midst of those hollyhocks and morning glories, petting the kitties and pulling the weeds and we all reaped the benefits of it. I’m so thankful for those summer days and visions that etched themselves on my heart. When I think about Amos working in the garden with me or this new little girl, it gives me all of the feels. It’s teaching them too, I know it.
Sometimes, we’re forced into seasons of steady movement and a rhythmic pace. Sometimes we have to create it. Each summer, I’m really thankful for this practice. Deep in the dirt and the labor it returns me better than I started. xx-k
