Wednesday, November 4, 2009

A plot of land to steward

It never occurred to me when I used to grow gardens that it was a year-round task. You plant a garden. You harvest. End of story. Not so. Except here in Central Washington where the ground freezes in the winter, there's always something to do. Even then, when I'm sitting by the woodstove, there's the envisioning of next year's garden, looking at seed catalogs, and dreaming with the other community gardeners what we are going to eat come June.  By March, only four months away, we'll be able to plant seeds inside (if we are so inclined, which I have never been.)
In the meantime, I spent an hour in the garden yesterday cleaning out some of the dirt/grass clods that didn't get tilled and we had piled to the side of the garden. They are annoying, to say the least, and I will have to add dirt back into the area where I am removing the clods....taking a lot of dirt with them.
Then, I'll plant a border for flowers, a haven for the beneficial insects I'm just sure will want to hang out in our garden.
I'm thinking more about the flowers than I am the vegetables at this point because in a way they are just as important--not only for the aesthetics, but a home for insects. It's the same for big farmers. I've read that some farmers are beginning to understand the importance of bordering their large acreages with trees, shrubs, plants and flowers to harbor the beneficials, which seems odd considering how much spraying that takes place. What good is a border to harbor insects, if you just kill them?
Anyway, no spraying in our little plot of ground.
When Jared and I moved her 17 years ago, I was grateful to have a small plot of land over which I was the steward. Jared never got very excited about it because as an adolescent that is not where his attention was focused. His was music. And finishing school. And growing up. But I remember him helping plant fence posts, mowing, burning the tumbleweeds in the fall, shoveling snow. He was a big help.

1 comment:

JoyRainbow said...

Ben, I'm sorry Martha won't let you spray. Martha, I am glad you don't spray :)
Miss you and love you!