Time moves. Spring has begun its magical decent into the five-acre wood. This is our sixth spring here, and I’ve been enjoying digging in the dirt nearly daily throughout the year, slowly moving through every inch of the land. Most of my work has been ungardening, which allows me to sweat and think and grow stronger. It is the gardening that I am afraid of — what to put where and how! I do not envision (I may not have this skill at all), I just move. But the land no longer wears its thorny drapery and untraversable barbed bushes, and when Pearl steps outside, she doesn’t return with dozens of ticks and sometimes she returns with none — a remarkable transformation!
Last winter, Amy, a gardener friend, shared some insight which has made the land this spring, not just an undoing project, but a transformative one for me, the pollinators, and the passers-by. Small spring ephemerals are blooming all around , though the deer and geese are munching them at an irritating pace.
I remain anxiously aware of the summer explosion which will inevitably hide trees with height and abundance of both good and not so good plants. The burst leads to a dispiriting hiding of what I’ve begun. We have a long way to go here, but magic is alive! Earth day is every day, truly, but it is important to remember to celebrate, so here is my wishing you Happy Earth Day(s)!
Plant Pirate! Flower Bandit!
I discovered an acre of Snowdrops and Winter Aconite when trees were cut down for another Wawa in the area, and filled my truck with plants. When I went back and tried 'the right" way, (I asked), the plants were destroyed within a week.
I know better than to ask. Why did I falter?
Toots and Yedda have been returning to Pond Island for 6 years! We’ve seen them thrive and struggle year after year. So far, their 5 goslings are thriving — no catastrophes, but there is a coyote on the loose!
Pearl, my love! She ran out into the darkness (was it the coyote?) with fervor — straight into the new wheelbarrow we left in the path. She is recovering, but I do wonder if the wheelbarrow saved her from a worse encounter.
Ungardening. I love that term. I was mowing the lawn the other day (irritating task that climate change seems to push earlier and earlier every year… I have 32 years of mowing dates.. IDK why, just something… every year, earlier by even a day or two…) where was I …
Oh yeah, ungardening … and how I measure spring… first the daffodils, next the tulips, and finally the irises… well, not finally but after that, spring explodes so fast I can’t keep up and I don’t even try except to mow the lawn and finally blow leaves…
I’ll ungarden this summer next spring, if I’m gifted another season.
Such beautiful writing. As we ungarden too in the desert I salute you! I love the way you talk about combing every inch Margaux, with its rewards and growth and getting stronger. I'm always appreciative for your voice!