The seeds are planted and now we wait

I’m excited to share my monthly garden journal with you! Last year, this series was an exercise in record-keeping. I shared photos of my analog garden journal along with observations from my first year of growing a cut flower garden. This year, I intend to share vignettes, short essays, stories, and watercolor florals. Oh, and photos, of course. I would also love to share YOUR garden stories throughout the summer. Read on to learn more.

I have to wonder if my green thumb is genetic. After all, my maternal grandparents grew up in farming families, tending the land and the dairy cows during the Great Depression and seeing siblings off to WWII and carrying the satisfaction of a day’s work outside to their final days. My grandfather loved to mow the lawn and kept a prolific vegetable garden. My grandmother loved a potted coleus for her apartment patio, and she kept orchids blooming with ice cubes and a little sunlight. On my paternal side, my grandmother relished in new hanging plants for the shepherd’s hooks outside her window. I associated her love of plants with her endless patience for tedium—this woman who cracked peanut shells by hand to make her homemade peanut squares. I don’t know where her love of red geraniums originated.

I spotted a hot pink geranium at the garden center with my mom a few weeks ago, and she convinced me to buy it. My mom who was raised by former farmers and fosters the biggest, greenest coleus plants in large pots every year. My mom who made us do yard work in the spring and summer, even though we hated it, and now here I am assigning myself outdoor chores and telling my kids to pick up sticks in the yard, waiting for the day they have enough strength to pull weeds.

I am more gentle on myself in the garden. This is my second year officially gardening. I’ve planted pots and kept indoor plants for years, but raised bed with seeds and weeds and trellises and weather? I am a beginner, and I might feel like a beginner every year. This spring is nothing like the last. It’s warmer, everything is greener, the raspberry bushes are bushier, and the berries are already popping out to soak up the sunshine. Who knows what pests and perils the summer will bring. I already fried a bunch of my seedlings, but I scattered more seeds and moved on.

Everything is an experiment, I tell myself when I water the garden and check for new growth. I feel such anxiety in the days before seedlings emerge. Will the seeds grow at all? Did the seeds disappear into the belly of a squirrel? Did I water too much or too little? Is the spacing okay? What if nothing grows?

The next day, a sweet little green leaf pokes up from the dirt. A morning glory, finally! (It’s only been a week.) Another dahlia! (They famously take their time.) I have not failed, yet. The garden will surprise me every week from here on out. I am excellent at pivoting. Everything is an experiment.

This year, I planted:

• Zinnias (of course)

• Dahlias

• Billy Buttons

• Snapdragons

• Celosia

• Purpletop Verbena

• Bupleurum

• Morning glory (Grandpa Ott)

• Pole beans

I feel pretty good about my zinnia and dahlia beds, but the filler flowers are a mystery to me. Last year, I tried some fillers and vegetables that got devoured by chipmunks. I recovered it by planting late season zinnias, and that’s my back-up plan. You can always count on zinnias to salvage a garden mishap.

New feet within my garden go —

New feet within my garden go—
New fingers stir the sod—
A Troubadour upon the Elm
Betrays the solitude.

New children play upon the green—
New Weary sleep below—
And still the pensive Spring returns—
And still the punctual snow!

Emily Dickinson

Share your garden adventures

I would love to share your garden photos, stories, or tips on The Eclectic Reader this summer. This could look like a full “journal entry” or essay under your name, or a section of my monthly journal devoted to community photos and snippets.

I think it would be fun to see a variety of gardens from a bunch of different locations! If you’re interested, you can send me a message on Substack or email eclecticreadernews@gmail.com.

Happy Planting!