My garden- my fuel
ਮੇਰਾ ਬਗੀਚਾ : ਮੇਰੀ ਤਾਕਤ
After my daily morning ablutions, I take my first cup of tea in my native garden. I stroll along the sidewalk, admiring an Anna’s hummingbird dipping into the Mexican bush sage's ears and the morning marine layers enveloping conversation with the seaside lavender.
About ten years ago, I noticed a neighbor's tree being trimmed and mulched during winter. I asked them to dump the mulch in my front yard, which was a win-win. That winter, I sheet-mulched the entire yard, spreading a thick layer of cardboard and raking the mulch on top. The grass disappeared by the next spring, leading me to imagine the future of this yard. After experimenting, I decided to add colorful mulch, along with plants like Society Garlic, Mexican bush sage, and lavender, and to start a vegetable garden. Over time, I’ve expanded the space with more native plants, fruit trees, and additional vegetable beds.
The bay-infused clay soil provides plenty of nutrients, but its low porosity hampers root growth. To establish plants, you need to create a small mound of clay topped with porous compost, allowing roots to spread naturally. Simply digging and applying spread won’t guarantee a good harvest. Raised beds are especially vulnerable to the nearby large tree on my sidewalk; its roots rapidly invade this nutrient-rich zone, clogging the beds each season. I allow celery to compete with the tree roots, and any harvest I get is a welcome bonus.
My first book, *Time & Knots*, uses seasons to carry the story, and the poem “Glow” depicts our mortal journey.
The pause, action, and observation cultivated through gardening influence my approach to work, life, and creativity. My life metaphors develop in the clay, my ink flourishes in its muse, and I find renewal through gardening itself. The grounding power of clay has expanded my horizons; where it leads me next remains beyond my pursuit.
Glow
When one works with soil,
an earthly scent overwhelms life’s sweat.
….
Acts of gardening:
Kneeling
knock on the hours to root
Weeding
reminder for the remainder to uproot
Amending
balance to seek
Tilling
….
When the final almanac turns,
soiled hands are fired in an immortal kiln,
a hue that glows then blossoms forth.
In my current collection Lotus Hue, creative infusion is in full swing in the opening poem, “Garden of Eden”:
when w h i t e
& w h i t e lies
unite: false truth—conceived.
swing & swing a machete—clear
desiring apples & venomous snakes
dying hue —undyed blood & lies
forgiving Truth
Truth forgiving
blood &
lies dying
hue—
undyed
The pause, action, and observation cultivated through gardening influence my approach to work, life, and creativity. My life metaphors develop in the clay, my ink flourishes in its muse, and I find renewal through gardening itself. The grounding power of clay has expanded my horizons; where it leads me next remains beyond my pursuit.