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The Dirt

There was a time I didn’t like gardening. I hated working in the heat, being itchy and dirty. I didn’t like the physical work of it. I would much rather stretch out on a blanket and read.


But I loved flowers and trees. I read and reread The Secret Garden. I filled sketchbooks with drawings of flowers and cottage gardens. I loved visiting the formally-hedged plots of the area’s historical houses. It was inevitable that gardening would win out. It was even in my blood: all four of my great-grandfathers were farmers of one kind or another.

In my mid-twenties, a roommate and I were renting a tiny house with an even tinier backyard. We quite literally cut the grass once with a pair of scissors. In the spring, we decided to plant a few flowers and vegetables in one sunny corner. The smell of the dark soil was heaven and caring for the plants brought me joy. I don’t remember getting a single vegetable and several of the flowers didn’t make it, but I was hooked. I’ve been dabbling to various degrees ever since.

I’m far from an expert. I still kill a handful of plants every year. I make lots of mistakes, often because I get lazy or impatient. Recently, I heard someone call gardening the slowest art (I don’t remember who or where) and I’m learning to see it as that. My canvases over the years have ranged from window sills to sunny lawns to a quarter-acre vegetable plot. Currently, it’s two acres of mostly-wooded land near Annapolis, Maryland.

This is the first time the canvas has been mine. My husband and I bought this place three years ago last June. Once the brambles were clear and the yard tidied, we were left with a fairly blank slate. The first two years we focused primarily on a few hard scapes and major water run-off issues. Now it’s time to make the place shine.

My goal is for those who live and visit this yard to feel like they’ve entered a sanctuary. And I mean that in all its definitions: a place of refuge, protection, peace — a place where one might worship. Because at the risk of sounding hokey, that is how I feel about the trees, flowers, creek and critters here in this corner of the world. Being out among them is what feeds my soul.

The dirt doesn’t phase me any more.

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