I’m a Southern girl, though it’s taken me a while to admit it. I prefer Alternative Rock to Country, recoil at the thought of deep frying anything, and my friends would laugh at the notion of me being the traditional Southern Belle.
However, my roots in the South, particularly Alabama, are deep. I’m the fire-builder in my home, I enjoy hiking and camping, and my family jokes that I was born eating collard greens. Rarely a weekend passes that I haven’t scrubbed dirt out of my nails. You get the picture.
Being one who loves nutrition and a healthy lifestyle as well as being outdoors, gardening came naturally to me. Getting my hands dirty and growing food for my friends and family is a celebration of my heritage, one that I can be proud of.
A day in the garden is a day of reflection, productivity, and appreciation for an earth that provides.
Since my son, Jude was two, he’s been helping pick out what to grow, tending the plants, and enjoying the fruits of our labor. I don’t know if there is anything more rewarding than watching my child go through our garden naming the herbs and vegetables, picking a piece of basil to taste, and then crushing a sprig of rosemary like he’s seen me do a hundred times and enjoying the aroma.
Our winter garden has been incredible this mild, wet winter. Now we are planning for spring and summer, waffling with whether or not we should try for tomatoes again. If there is something I can always be trusted to kill, it is tomatoes.
Jude’s only requirement is watermelon, as last year’s experiment was quite the success. Watching your kiddo gobble up a watermelon he grew himself is the stuff dreams are made of.
But this isn’t all about the vegetables and fruits that make it to our kitchen; this is about the lesson in gardening itself.
A garden starts with seedlings that have been carefully tended so that they sprout into hearty plants. This stage requires more care and attention given their fragility, much like a newborn.
As the plants start to grow they still require attention, but not as much. Maintenance is required and I find myself looking and admiring the little fellas making their way. Kind of like my Kindergartener, perhaps?
Then comes the day, much sooner than you expect, when you check on your little babies and they are blossoming. It’s time to enjoy the fruit and share the bounty; a phase I imagine parents finds themselves at eventually.
Gardening, while enjoyable to me for several reasons, holds many lessons. The importance of being present to help in times of vulnerability, learning to back off and let nature happen, and the beauty of enjoying the journey.
