Whispers from the Garden: Lessons Learned Among Flora and Fauna

There are plenty of surprises in my gardens where I freely mix veggies and flora.

Every year, I tweak and change it, but the basic plan remains constant — hard work and careful preparation result in a healthy, fruitful garden. I try to stay nimble. And creative. And flexible.

I have planted seeds of spinach, arugula, chard, radishes and kale in downpours. Each time, I thought the seeds would not come up, but they fooled me. Somehow many of them are growing in places where I hadn’t planted them. I needed to remain flexible and let the seeds grow and mature where they migrated, transported by rivulets of water, choosing their own best growing place.

I could have bought expensive plants for the raised beds, but instead each year I decide to sow seeds saved from good performers, plants which had gone to seed in hot weather and offer me hope for a new crop. Now they are growing strong, at hardly any cost. I started many other plants in the house, keeping them moist and watching them grow to sturdy seedlings before putting them outside. All a cost savings. Other plants seeded themselves — calendula, nasturtium, parsley, tiny blue-star creeper, a hardy geranium called Johnson Blue and others keep growing and spreading as much as I will let them. I’ve prune with abandon, cutting grape and wisteria vines way back when they infringe, or placing them where they can grow without intimidating the progress of something else.

In my garden, I stand still and hear the chirping of black-capped chickadees, orioles and blush pink house finches, all working away on black sunflower seeds and suet I set out for them. The place is alive with the tapping of woodpeckers — northern flickers, and both downy and pileated woodpeckers, with their undulating flight paths. Blue jays chatter with the crows, and I even hear hummingbirds whir by. I can hear the mournful owls and doves from an owl box placed high up in a fir. I can hear wildlife cracking through underbrush in the back part of the acreage, and always squirrels, ever busy, ever scolding.

There are lessons in listening like this. The biggest one might be the process of learning.