The Good Earth

 "Mom! Dad! Do you want to help us plant a garden this year?" our son Greg asked with his typical enthusiasm. He explained that one of the churches was designating a large expanse of their sunny back lawn as a community garden project. For a nominal fee, city dwellers like us who had the gardening bug but no space for one could enjoy a great summer activity.

My husband heartily agreed while I warmed up to the idea. I remembered gardens being a lot of work as a kid, but I also remembered gathering bushels of tomatoes and that sunshiny, vine-ripe taste of eating one fresh off the vine while the juice ran down my arm as I picked. So Greg signed us up for a 12x40 foot space for us to share with his family.

It was a win/win situation. The church prepared the soil, gave out seeds, provided the water and even encompassed the whole 1600' plot with a border of marigolds (a natural bug repellant--chemicals were not allowed.) Our kids eagerly set out to plan our garden. Being very analytical, they plotted it on graph paper with appealing-looking little sections, some on the diagonal, illustrated with neatly sketched rows of onions, peas, watermelons, etc. This looked like fun.

It was a little labor intensive, especially the watering part (plastic 50 gallon drums were mounted on stands enclosed in the middle of the garden to drain into buckets or watering cans), but later a hose was run from the church. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant diversion to go there in the late afternoon and attend to our project.

Scattering mulch, weeding, putting up tomato cages and other chores left us with dirt on our hands and tired bodies, but it was a pleasant tiredness. Almost before we knew it, we were enjoying leaf lettuce, radishes, and green onions, followed by green peppers, a smattering of peas and even a few green beans (we needed to perfect our skills in this area). Soon we were chatting with fellow gardeners, commiserating over the lack or abundance of rain, comparing notes and casting smug or envious glances over the crop. Several area feeding programs were the benefits of our excess. 

Now we were getting tomatoes, cantaloupe and watermelons, and the pumpkins that were green earlier are dotting the landscape with great orange orbs. Not only are we reaping the benefits of our garden, we were blessed with the visual treat of everyone's efforts.  The garden shimmers Eden-like on the landscape, a heavy planting of giant zinnias bobbing their Mexican colors down the length of the garden, purple blooms from the vines dripping from the trellis surrounding the water barrels, rows of cornstalks that formerly waved tassels in the wind have produced tempting ears of corn (never mind that they were stolen--our Eden isn't perfect, either).

So with the exception of a few snitched watermelons and other kinks that need to be worked out, the project was a success. They're talking of expanding it next year, and we'll probably be first in line. The wonder of pulling food from the good earth is too magical to resist!