Adventures in Urban Gardening: Learning from my Plants

A little while ago, I wrote about my urban garden. As the weather got warmer, my plants began to grow. Every morning, I carefully water them and I'm always looking for a new sign of growth. Little seeds have become large plants with flowers and some have faltered under the DC sun. I find myself excited when a torrential rain hits as the next day the plants are bigger and greener. In the last four months, I have made pesto with my basil, salad with my tomatoes, and seasoned my chicken with my rosemary. What I have found most interesting from this experience are the little things I've learned from my plants.

My herbs...

To begin, my plants have taught me patience. I recall planting tiny seeds into small soil pods on an incubator. Every day, I would take a look through the plastic cover to check their progress. When I returned from a two week trip, I noticed the seeds had sprouted, tiny little green plants were born. As they grew, I transferred them to a pot. After four months, they just began to flower. Hopefully by the end of the summer, I will have eggplant and peppers. One of the things I acknowledge I need to work the most on is patience. It is in those moments when we stop micro-managing (or in my case, micro-observing) that the magical things happen.

Jalapenos from El Huerto

My plants have taught me that sometimes we need to cut excess in order to be abundant. It sounds like an oxymoron but it is true. Take herbs for example. In order to have tasty herbs, you have to cut the flowers from the plant. When I first saw my basil plant topped with flowers, I was thought it was great. I soon found out it has a negative effect on the production and taste of the leaves. In order to have leafy, tasty basil (or other herbs for that matter) you must cut these flowers. From my move from Brussels to DC, I have learned more possessions doesn't necessarily mean more abundance. I have cleaned my closets and given away/thrown out things I no longer needed. The excesses took away from the abundance and flavor of my home and life. My basil plants reaffirmed this.

Waiting for my Eggplants

My plants taught me things can change for the better even when you think hope is lost. I planted two tomato plants in a container. After two months, they produced yummy roma tomatoes. Once the tomatoes grew, most of the plant dried up. I gave up on the plant, thinking it was some rookie gardening mistake, and set it aside in order to throw it away when I returned from my 9 day Eurotrip. Upon my return, I was surprised to see although most branches were dry, there was a long, strong green stem with beautiful leaves. I do not know yet if it will give me more tomatoes, but the fact that it was there standing tall made think about life. How sometimes when we think hope is lost, but we can be pleasantly surprised.

My Basil, all grown up...

This is my first time with a little garden. I find myself every morning on my deck, checking the progress of my plants. I water them carefully, smell the fragrant leaves, touch the soil, and rescue them when the sun has been too rough. At times, we complicate our lives so much with excesses we do not need when just like plants, a little water and sunshine can take us a long way!