From the Sept 20 Newsletter:
Fall, the time of year when we become more acutely aware of the shorter days, cooler nights and crispy mornings. For me, Fall has always brought along a time of reflection and introspection, especially in the garden. What new projects did I work on this year? What worked out? What didn’t? What can I try differently next year? What new projects and experiments can be started now?
I know that for myself, this year I look around and see many started projects that didn’t quite pan out to the full vision I had hoped to see. Sometimes the Spring comes with a huge burst of energy that doesn’t quite last to complete every started project. Especially as I continue to age, I find I have more patience for things not always working out on the initial expected timeline.
I see the garden as a direct reflection of my own personal journey. Looking back to some of my personal gardens in the past, I remember that I used to try to grow every single plant I had ever heard of, with a sense of urgency that bordered on panic. These days, my reason for having a garden has shifted. A decade ago, when I was first returning to the garden, it was with a sense of fear and desperation. I looked at the changing climate and worked myself into a near panic wondering what the future of food security would look like.
At that time, I thought that I had to have every last detail of working in the garden figured out… Immediately. As I’ve worked through the years in many gardens with many different goals- working on myself through the process- I’ve released that sense of urgency and need to stay attached to specific visions and timelines.
Now, I try to focus more on the broader idea. Instead of packing as many annual crops as possible into the space I have to work with, I look at ways to utilize native perennials, with annuals filling in the gaps. I see this reflected in my personal life by the decision to live in community, building resilient relationships, focusing more on interdependence vs the rugged independence I grew up thinking I needed to aspire to.
Back to those questions the Fall brings forward, though. All of them can really be better summed up by a broader question: What did I learn this year? Followed by: what seeds can I plant now to let incubate over the Winter and bring to life next year? The garden, like life, is an ever-changing, ever-growing process of becoming. During the Equinox and coming Fall, I challenge you to ask yourself who and what do you and your garden wish to become?