Here we go again.
January 17, 2011

This is the first time I have been to the garden since the rains.  Looking around at the carnage, I am overwhelmed.  It is silent all around.  There are so many weeds, so few plants.  My husband’s apple trees have toppled over the onions and pests have infested some of the garlic plants.

I feel disappointed, as though my dreams have been vanquished.  There will be no parsnips on the dining room table this winter, grown in the backyard and weeded with a toddler and harvested with wonder.  I have a bag of sprouting fingerling potatoes under my arm.  If at first you don’t succeed, I tell myself, plant the fingerlings.

Charlotte is thrilled that we are back in the garden.  She bushwhacks through the jungle of weeds until she finds a small clearing.  She wastes no time digging a hole there, plucking out a small collection of beetles and pillbugs and slugs and earthworms.  She’s watching them flail about (or flop about or crawl about or roll about) frantically as the sunlight hits them and she is laughing, trying to separate them into groups.  Slugs to the left.  Worms to the right.  Stray beetle in the t-shirt.

Looking at my daughter and watching her find so much joy in this broken garden, I am reassured, re-energized.  It is no longer silent here.  There is great noise all about – the buzz of bees and the chirps of birds, the crunch of falling leaves and the rustling of squirrels in the trees, the rush of insects and the squeaks of rabbits in the brush, the whisper of earth giving way beneath my fingers and the happy sounds of a small child enthralled with bugs.

A minute later, the weeds start flying.


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  1. By on January 18, 2011

    I love to garden but I give thanks on my knees that I do not have to raise enough food to keep my self and family fed. God bless the farmers.

  2. By on January 19, 2011

    Mitzie, you have said it beautifully, how could I improve on that?

    Your blog inspires and complements our lifestyle and decisions, Sarah, stay the course, please.


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