Dear Friends,
These days, as we all find our way forward through this difficult time, I have been struck by the sense that we are at the same time both more intimately connected and more isolated than ever before. As we retreat to our homes and our families (if we are so lucky) and face the anxiety, fear, and uncertainty that Coronavirus has brought to all of humanity, we suffer together. No one, it seems, is spared from the reach of this strange and extraordinary virus.
It can be difficult to find the silver lining in all of the suffering and difficulty that these last few weeks and months have unleashed across the world, and yet every day I seem to unearth another small gift within it all. My family’s vegetable garden has been an absolute treasure in this time, and I have been reminded yet again, why gardens are so important to me, and why I started Portland Edible Gardens in the first place.
As we have all scattered to our shelters and withdrawn from each other, donned precious fragile layers of protection on our harrowing trips to the grocery store, scrubbed our hands raw, held our breaths in passing, the rest of our living earth has breathed a collective sigh of relief. Have you noticed? The cherry blossoms have continued to erupt in snowy bloom, the Easter tulips are more punctual and vivid than ever, the drone of weekday mornings has given way to bird song, and the trees stand tall and silent, affirming it all, again, and again, and again.
In our family’s garden we have seeded radishes and turnips, carrots, and sugar snap peas. We have planted lettuce, arugula, spinach, and broccoli from nursery starts. This week we will plant Kale, Parsley, and 3 kinds of Onions. Before planting, we removed the straw mulch that we had spread in the Fall to protect our soil and amended all of our raised garden beds with compost and organic fertilizer, worked it in to the soil with a digging fork, adding organic matter, nutrients, and loosening the soil, making way for roots to tunnel down. We still have a beautiful crop of spinach and arugula that was seeded in the late Summer last year. Our ‘hardneck’ garlic, planted from cloves in October, is now a beautiful deep green and as happy as ever. We will harvest mature garlic bulbs in July. The days are stretching longer, the soil is warming. Just outside my window, hidden from view, our seeds are shedding their hard cold casings in the darkness and being born into tenderness.
And so the cycle continues. We tend our vegetable garden, whatever the weather. We plant seeds in times of abundance, and in times of scarcity. Our garden’s gifts are too many to name and more generous than we could ever know. My 3 year old daughter, Avery, pleads to water our seeds each day, even though they and everything else are drenched in precious rain -- Life is eager, coursing, yearning, all around us, and through us. Even now. Even here.
