Experiments, Curiosity and Patience
The late summer air is heavy and rich with cricket song, the hum of bees and the scents of clover and wild cucumber.
One of my greatest joys living where I do now is being able to walk around our property. To follow the paths through the woods that I cleared this spring. To emerge from one space into another. One of the woods walks leads into the new garden area, or rather the path through the meadow surrounding it.
When we had the remains of the old barn cleared away, we were left with a big, empty space.
can you even see where I set out the raised beds?
The first stage of my garden seems small within it. Eventually I’ll be adding more beds and an orchard, but until we can put up a bigger fence, this is it.
Perhaps I should have had more of a plan for the blank space. I’m not sure I even thought much about what would happen there. Before anything began to grow, we were constantly picking up rocks, glass, metal, bits of wood and other trash as it worked its way out of the soil. One day Matthias noticed a a glint; it was a steak knife!
Empty ground cannot stay empty. Nature abhors a vacuum. Or as Jess from Roots and Refuge Farm says, mother earth is modest and needs to cover herself. To be honest, I wasn’t concerned about what might grow up. I was more curious than anything else. I figured letting things be was an experiment. It would allow me see what’s already here. Give me a clue about the health of the soil and let me observe things like drainage and how the sun moves through the space.
So I let things be and watched.
Gardening is full of experiments. And it’s with the mindset of experimenting, of waiting and watching, that I’ve approached everything on our property. What would happen if…
It’s how I approach art-making, too. Especially in my sketchbooks where I experiment with many different mediums and techniques, but in my botanical watercolors, I experiment as well. What would happen if I mix these two paints together? What would happen if I layer color this way instead of that way?
recent paintings and sketches on my table
Perhaps some of it is that I am self-taught. I was never instructed the “right” way to do things. I learned by doing. By experimenting. By being curious. By observing and being patient.
Spending a season watching what happens in an empty patch of dirt takes patience. It takes curiosity. And it requires me to be ok with uncertainty and a fair amount of “mess.” All of the same things are true about making art.
This is not to say that everything is complete chaos. From our very first days on our property we’ve been cleaning up years of neglect. Reclaiming overgrown areas, pulling weeds, giving trees room to breathe. But we also know that nature can never be completely controlled — or we don’t want to try to.
I’m thrilled with the “results’ of my around-the-garden experiment.
And a bit surprised. So much clover has show up in the space. I call it my clover meadow. There are grasses and other weeds and wildflowers, too, but the clover is everywhere, strongly fragrant and humming with bees. Last August honeybees covered our hummingbird feeders.
This year they’re in the clover.
And the hummingbirds don’t have to compete with the bees. Just with each other.
Walking along the paths each day is a delight.
Over time I want to add more native plants, to refine and curate the different areas while trying to find a balance and harmony with nature, not fight against it.
Another experiment this year is the area around the back entrance of our house. We had some things repaired in the early summer and we’re waiting for our contractor to come back for a couple more projects. I didn’t want to plant anything where they’d be working. And I wasn’t yet sure what I wanted to plant. So I let things be. I call it my weed garden. Jewelweed, curly dock, goosefoot, dandelions, nightshade. Strangely, these messy weeds make me happy. They’re green and growing. And who’s to say it’s not a garden because the plants are all wild? What makes a rose or a dahlia or a zinnia or a hydrangea better than these other plants?
a weedy bouquet
Don’t worry, the weeds aren’t staying, but I’ve enjoyed taking my time to see what happened. I’ve enjoyed not being in a rush for change or progress. I’ve enjoyed relinquishing a bit of control. Patience is a lesson I learn again and again. From nature. From my garden. From art. From years and years of waiting to find this property.
Last August when I watched the thistles, goldenrod and jewelweed blooming where they stretched out of the remains of the barn, I was dreaming of my future garden. But even with all of my dreams and my plans I could never quite picture it.
butterfly weed in the rock-lined bed outside of my kitchen garden
Now, as I walk through the clover and open the gate to the beginnings of my kitchen garden, I am filled with such gratitude and joy. And curiosity. To see what will happen next.
Now that I’m back from my break and getting into a rhythm with my business, I’m turning back on the paid option on Substack. But this time paid subscribers will be getting an extra post from me each month. I’ll be publishing one post each month that everyone can read and one just for subscribers. I plan for them to be a bit more intimate and behind-the-scenes. I’m not going to plan it out too much to begin with. I want these pieces to evolve organically over time. And to be something that will inspire and encourage you. More views of my gardens. More glimpses of my sketchbooks. Some creative prompts and project ideas. Maybe some videos.
There’s absolutely no pressure to subscribe. Either way, I’m so grateful to have you here.
In my August Joy Letter, I announced a project I’m working on — a series of small books. Physical objects filled with writing and art. Monthly writing and art connected with the seasons. Observations. Inspirations. Beauty. Encouragement. All on paper. Something I can hold in my hands and send to you for you to hold in your hands, too. Not quite an analog version of my blog. Not quite a zine. I’m still working out all of the details, but I’d love to hear your thoughts. I’ll be sharing more about it as I figure things out, so stay tuned.
