My Garden Matters
By Marvin N. Miller, AIB President
I live in a neighborhood with a lot of walkers. We have folks who walk alone, as couples, and as small groups. Some walk with their four-legged companions, while others walk unencumbered.
I’ve gotten to know many of these folks by sight. With others, a brief chat might begin and end with an exchange of pleasantries. For a few, I have longer conversations.
As I go about my garden tasks, I have gotten to know some of these neighbors quite well. Because I do much of my garden work early in the morning before work, I get to know the early-risers better than those I might see if I spent more time in the garden later in the day.
While gardening, I also am regularly visited by wildlife. My two birdbaths each seem to attract different birds and for different reasons. I get a lot of sippers at one, where the birds perch on the rim and take a drink; birds visiting here are in and out in a few seconds, and the turnover is quick. The other bird bath seems to attract the bathers, as most birds actually jump in and splash for several minutes at a time. If birds used washcloths, I am sure this second birdbath would have a towel rack filled with soiled rags, as the birds seem to aggressively wash under their wings, between their legs, and even behind their ears in this receptacle, and fresh water turns rather muddy in just a day.
I also have assorted chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits, butterflies, and bees visiting on a regular basis. The chipmunks like to run between the downspouts, hiding in the ends when I walk by. The squirrels are mostly about finding fallen nuts from neighboring black walnut or oak trees. And the rabbits seem to sit in the yard and say to one another, “Oh, look, there’s a gardener,” when I walk into the yard. I am sure more than a few flowers have provided food for this menagerie. The butterflies and bees also get food here, but they pollinate in the process.
Each summer, as August approaches and the flowers really start to come into their own, it seems my garden also attracts another breed. These are neighbors who apparently have been viewing my garden from a distance, either through windows from nearby homes or as they have driven by. They make a point of stopping when they see me in the yard, and asking about a certain flower or plant that has caught their eyes or a specific splash of color. Thus far, I’ve been visited by the newspaper delivery lady, who stopped her rounds at 6:30 on a recent Sunday morning to inquire about the heart-shaped leaves in the front yard. “They’re caladiums,” I responded. Another neighbor’s adult children stopped over to ask about the coleus. As different perennials go in or out of bloom, I get a few “one-timers” who want to ask about the patch of color that came or went so fast. And I get the occasional visitor that really wants to know how much “work” all of this beauty takes.
A few years ago, I decided that I’d tell anyone who asked that my garden took no work but instead provided much satisfaction. I admitted that I was quite active when in the garden, but noted the activity was one of joy. “I don’t work in the garden,” I’d tell them, “but I do come out to play in the garden.”
In a recent conversation with a fellow gardener, I heard the word “spiritual” used when discussing the gardening activity. This gardener admitted to feeling closer to God when in the garden than while being anywhere else. Mention was made of witnessing the entire life-cycle in a season, of procreation (propagation), of growth, of decline, and of death. Knowing that some plants can go from seed to seed in a month’s time, I just nodded.
One of the more meaningful visits I had recently was from an elderly couple who I had gotten to know. They were “walking the neighborhood one last time” last weekend, as they were relocating to a retirement home just a few days later. They had been in the neighborhood for 11 years and noted what a beautiful neighborhood it was. They noted how they really enjoyed passing by my place because it was always so colorful. They said they would miss their walks in the neighborhood the most, but that they decided it was time to make “one final move for their most senior years, before it was time to go upstairs.”
I decided then and there that my garden matters.
By Marvin N. Miller, AIB President
I live in a neighborhood with a lot of walkers. We have folks who walk alone, as couples, and as small groups. Some walk with their four-legged companions, while others walk unencumbered.
I’ve gotten to know many of these folks by sight. With others, a brief chat might begin and end with an exchange of pleasantries. For a few, I have longer conversations.
As I go about my garden tasks, I have gotten to know some of these neighbors quite well. Because I do much of my garden work early in the morning before work, I get to know the early-risers better than those I might see if I spent more time in the garden later in the day.
While gardening, I also am regularly visited by wildlife. My two birdbaths each seem to attract different birds and for different reasons. I get a lot of sippers at one, where the birds perch on the rim and take a drink; birds visiting here are in and out in a few seconds, and the turnover is quick. The other bird bath seems to attract the bathers, as most birds actually jump in and splash for several minutes at a time. If birds used washcloths, I am sure this second birdbath would have a towel rack filled with soiled rags, as the birds seem to aggressively wash under their wings, between their legs, and even behind their ears in this receptacle, and fresh water turns rather muddy in just a day.
I also have assorted chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits, butterflies, and bees visiting on a regular basis. The chipmunks like to run between the downspouts, hiding in the ends when I walk by. The squirrels are mostly about finding fallen nuts from neighboring black walnut or oak trees. And the rabbits seem to sit in the yard and say to one another, “Oh, look, there’s a gardener,” when I walk into the yard. I am sure more than a few flowers have provided food for this menagerie. The butterflies and bees also get food here, but they pollinate in the process.
Each summer, as August approaches and the flowers really start to come into their own, it seems my garden also attracts another breed. These are neighbors who apparently have been viewing my garden from a distance, either through windows from nearby homes or as they have driven by. They make a point of stopping when they see me in the yard, and asking about a certain flower or plant that has caught their eyes or a specific splash of color. Thus far, I’ve been visited by the newspaper delivery lady, who stopped her rounds at 6:30 on a recent Sunday morning to inquire about the heart-shaped leaves in the front yard. “They’re caladiums,” I responded. Another neighbor’s adult children stopped over to ask about the coleus. As different perennials go in or out of bloom, I get a few “one-timers” who want to ask about the patch of color that came or went so fast. And I get the occasional visitor that really wants to know how much “work” all of this beauty takes.
A few years ago, I decided that I’d tell anyone who asked that my garden took no work but instead provided much satisfaction. I admitted that I was quite active when in the garden, but noted the activity was one of joy. “I don’t work in the garden,” I’d tell them, “but I do come out to play in the garden.”
In a recent conversation with a fellow gardener, I heard the word “spiritual” used when discussing the gardening activity. This gardener admitted to feeling closer to God when in the garden than while being anywhere else. Mention was made of witnessing the entire life-cycle in a season, of procreation (propagation), of growth, of decline, and of death. Knowing that some plants can go from seed to seed in a month’s time, I just nodded.
One of the more meaningful visits I had recently was from an elderly couple who I had gotten to know. They were “walking the neighborhood one last time” last weekend, as they were relocating to a retirement home just a few days later. They had been in the neighborhood for 11 years and noted what a beautiful neighborhood it was. They noted how they really enjoyed passing by my place because it was always so colorful. They said they would miss their walks in the neighborhood the most, but that they decided it was time to make “one final move for their most senior years, before it was time to go upstairs.”
I decided then and there that my garden matters.
Gardens are a very important "necessity" in our lives. Take them away and the entire landscape changes and I am sure the social climate will change also. Thank You for gardening and I agree it isn't work but a release of the days work and make sure that when you are done "playing" for the day that you take the time to look at what you have done as well. I am convinced that gardens are free billboards to display what our professions are. Keep up the good work...oh sorry ...keep on playing!
My garden is my gym. It offers endless opportunities for physical work, cardio, stretching, etc. Unlike going to a typical gym and running on a treadmill and lifting weights, I get to spend hours at my "gym". Weigh-bearing exercise includes carrying plants, sacks of fertilizer, potting soil. Stretching is involuntary and constant as I pick up snails, reach to pick a flower, and pull the hose around the yard. At the end of my workout, I have something to show for it - beauty!