These are my people

Gardeners. Who knew? Gardeners are my people, the ones with whom I feel most at home. They can have small or large gardens, balcony gardens, you name it. We click and bond over shared gardening experiences (sometimes failed experiments), types of seeds, what garden store is having a sale, and what we can share with each other. The latter is the most important to me. Gardeners are generous. I have not met one gardener in our allotment garden who hasn't been willing to share plants, seeds, or advice. Yesterday we had our annual Volunteer Day in the garden; we all pitch in to do weeding, raking, clipping, etc. for a few hours, and then afterward we gather together over cake and coffee. It was a lovely day, weatherwise and socially. Such events are important for strengthening the bonds between us and also for getting to know the new gardeners, those who have recently gotten their allotment gardens.

Why do I feel comfortable with gardeners? They are not flashy or chic. There are no in-your-face displays of wealth, even though there are probably a number of gardeners who are well-off. There is no overt competition among us, at least in our allotment garden. I don't feel like I'm competing with my fellow gardeners to 'have the best garden'. Each gardener is an individual with unique ways of expressing their love of gardens, and that is reflected in their choice of bushes, trees and flowers, as well as vegetables. My garden neighbor has tried growing artichokes; this year I'm attempting to grow asparagus. The lack of overt competitiveness is refreshing in a world that values 'being the best', sometimes at all costs. I'm simply not interested; perhaps I was at one time, early in my career. But even at that time, I worked together with colleagues who were more supportive rather than competitive. I'm thankful every day to be away from a work world that values competition and being the best above all else. The falsity of that way of thinking lies in the reality that only one person can really and truly be the best. All the others are accordingly ranked less. And that's ok for me, but it wasn't for our workplace leaders who did not care at all for those whose careers didn't measure up to snuff. I do not miss that world at all.

I know that gardening can be quite competitive; there are contests for having the most beautiful flower garden or for growing the largest vegetables or the most fruit. But like art, literature, and music, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You can judge the beauty of a garden, but it is a subjective evaluation. There are no objective criteria for what characterizes a beautiful garden. I respond intuitively to gardens that have a 'soul', but that too is subjective and emotional. There is much in our past and in our subconscious that is wrapped up in our gardens and garden choices. For example, when I plant tulips, I remember my mother ordering tulip bulbs from Holland and planting them on the front lawn. The resulting tulips were beautiful. Lilies of the valley remind me of a neighbor from childhood who had them lining one side of her house. They were my favorite flowers for the longest time. Basil and salad plants remind me of a family friend who grew them both in her backyard; we children would pick them for dinner when we visited her. Tomato plants remind me of my friend Jean's father who grew them in their backyard. The tomatoes were delicious. She has carried on the tomato-growing tradition.

As I get older, I am drawn to visiting public and private gardens. New York State is full of lovely gardens--The New York Botanical Garden, Innisfree Garden, Kykuit/The Rockefeller Estate, and Untermyer Park and Gardens, to name just a few of the ones I've visited. There are more on the list and I look forward to experiencing them in the coming years.  

Gardening and my relationship with the earth

For most of my adult life, I have been searching for something to 'complete' me. I don't think I really reflected fully upon this while I was working. There were too many projects and deadlines and the like. In my free time, I wrote poetry, and when I look at some of what I wrote circa twenty years ago, I realize that I was searching for connection. Not with people, because that part of my life is fine, but with nature and the earth. That was sorely lacking. I was stuck indoors for most of the workday, five days a week. It's not as though I didn't get outdoors to walk or bike or just enjoy the sunny days that came our way; it's more that I had no personal connection with the earth. I was missing that in my life. It wasn't until I began to garden that I realized what I had been missing. 

There is nothing that makes me happier than working with the earth, in the literal sense (planting seeds and plants) and in the figurative sense (aligning myself with what the earth can and cannot give). People talk about mindfulness and how important that is in our age. It is. A garden offers many opportunities for mindfulness, from weeding for several hours to pruning bushes and trees, to watering what you've planted, and finally to harvesting what you've planted (if one has planted vegetables and fruit trees). There are many gardeners who dislike weeding. I am not one of them, although I wouldn't want to do it on a daily basis since it's backbreaking work. What weeding has taught me is patience and perseverance. Weeds persevere; they come back in every which way no matter how often you remove them. They're survivors and they adapt to the conditions around them. I understand that they need to be removed because they choke the life out of the plants they surround and intertwine roots with. I need only think of skvallerkål (ground elder in English, Aegopodium podagraria in Latin). It spreads like wildfire in the garden. But at the same time that I'm removing them, I'm marveling at their ability to survive and spread. I admire that ability in all plants that are designated as weeds. I would not remove them if they were not so invasive and threatening to other plants. 

I've written about gardening many times before, but that's because I am ever grateful for a pastime and passion that centers me. The world around me can be literally going to hell in a handbasket, but I am happily oblivious to that when I am in my garden. I am more concerned with what the garden needs to be happy. Most gardeners feel the same way. I know that my own lone voice will not change the world situation at present (many voices can do so, so I understand the need to participate and vote), but once I do my civic duty, I am free to pursue my relationship with my garden. I am free to put my hands in the earth, to see the earthworms moving about in the soil, likewise the little pill bugs that remind me of little armadillos. Little spiders have made their home in my greenhouse, and every now and then they peek out from behind a ceramic pot to see if the coast is clear (is she still here?). I love watching the sparrows chattering, singing and quarreling with each other, or taking common baths in the birdbath. Every now and then my robin friend comes for a visit; I wish he'd stay longer, but I guess he has other gardens to visit too. 

My relationship with the earth is multifold. It is with the earth, literally, with my garden, as well as with the life in the garden. I've learned to appreciate all life in the garden, no matter how small. Each living thing has its job to do. It's immensely comforting to know that. Their purpose is by design, and I tend toward believing that it is a divine design. When you look at the intricacies of garden life, how everything is interwoven with everything else, it's hard to believe otherwise. 

My new book, The Gifts of a Garden, is now published and available for purchase

My new book--The Gifts of a Garden, is now published and available for purchase on Amazon: The Gifts of a Garden: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9798435180572: Amazon.com: Books

As the back cover of the book states--'gardening has become my passion and my form of meditation'. The text and photography in the book are my own. The book cover design (front and back) as well as the book's layout are the work of the talented graphic designer (and my friend) Paloma Ayala. I love the front cover design and I know you will too. You can find Paloma on Instagram at @paloma.photo.nature

Fascinating blog post from NY State Parks and Historic Sites

I subscribe to their blog, and this post appeared in my emails yesterday. I wanted to share it with you. It's entitled 'Growing the Future in Gilded Age Greenhouses'
https://nystateparks.blog/2020/01/21/growing-the-future-in-gilded-age-greenhouses/#like-8286

Visiting the Sonnenberg area of NY State and these greenhouses is on my bucket list. I'll have to save it for when I have more time to spend in NY State (when I'm retired, in other words!).

Anything having to do with gardens, plants, seeds, greenhouses, state parks, conservation and preservation hooks me immediately and makes me happy. Reading about this today made my day. It helps to obliterate all the bad and depressing news in the world.

Some wonderful quotes about gardens

I think this is what hooks one to gardening: it is the closest one can come to being present at creation.

--Phyllis Theroux

The lesson I have thoroughly learnt, and wish to pass on to others, is to know the enduring happiness that the love of a garden gives.

--Gertrude Jekyll

If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.

--Marcus Tullius Cicero

To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.

--William Blake

The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just the body, but the soul.

--Alfred Austin

A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them.

--Liberty Hyde Bailey

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.

--A. A. Milne

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

A weed is but an unloved flower.

--Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.

--Georges Bernanos

A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust.

--Gertrude Jekyll

Use plants to bring life.

--Douglas Wilson

Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.

--Alfred Austin

The best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there.

--George Bernard Shaw

No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, and no culture comparable to that of the garden.

--Thomas Jefferson

A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy.

--Luis Barragan

When the flower blooms, the bees come uninvited.

--Ramakrishna

There is no gardening without humility. Nature is constantly sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder.

--Alfred Austin

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.

--William Cowper

Weather means more when you have a garden. There's nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans.

--Marcelene Cox