Neck peeling, scratches scabbing on every limb, back aching, and I’m happy. Over eleven days, my husband and I dug nine 3 foot wide and 12 inch deep holes in fractured granite, built a seven foot fence to keep out the deer, and made five planters for herbs. Then we hauled rocks, arranged them in swales to slow the snow melt and planted hundreds of seeds and dozens of baby shrubs in the little planters the rocks created. There will be flowers everywhere and, with luck and a great deal of care, fruit on the trees we painstakingly planted. Click the link to see a video. Almost Done
Gardening at 7.000 feet is challenging. So is gardening in the high desert. Winds whip across our property, scissoring leaves and sucking sparse moisture from the ground. Temperatures fluctuate thirty degrees between noon and midnight. Hungry rodents, deer, and bugs feed on anything and everything green and the sun is so close it can burn the leaves on a plant in a day. But we keep trying.
Sometimes I feel like an idiot. And I truly do not know how humans survived on this planet. If it’s not an animal, it’s a virus or fungi. If it’s not a predator, it’s the weather which keeps changing on us. Too hot one season. Too cold another. And yet…
Something always thrives. There is always a harvest. It’s seldom the full fruit of our labor, but it’s ours. It was never wrapped in plastic, shipped over thousands of miles, or sprayed with anything. It’s fresh. The flavors are full and poignant.
More, and perhaps most importantly, every bite is filled with love.
