I often reflect on fond childhood memories of my Grandfather and Great Aunt Vicky whom I spent a lot of time with. Both lived very long productive, healthy lives pretty much up until the day they died. I remember going to spend weeks with my Aunt Vicky on her farm, where there was no running water, no indoor plumbing and she cooked on a wood burning stove. We would lay awake at night and listen to nature and tell haint tales, and funny Arshmen* stories, laughing and talking till we fell off to sleep. The next morning we would awaken to the sounds of chickens crowing and the smell of fresh eggs cooking as we watched the morning dew rise off the fields. As these fond memories unfold in my mind like watching a movie, I realize this is where I learned the importance of a balance between nature and life. We would build a fire in the stove early in the morning, scramble the eggs we gathered the night before, pull up fresh water from the well and laugh and talk to one another.
Farms and family teach us so much, and it saddens me as I realize that as a society we have grown away from the basic foundations that taught us the cycles of life, the importance of clean water and the delicate balance each play not only on the farm but in the suburbs. A few years ago I was lucky to have a praying mantis lay her eggs in a shrub at the edge of my house, and the next spring I was fortunate to watch as hundreds of tiny mantis scurried in and out of this bush as they came to life. I stopped using pesticides, taking advantage of the mantis, and started applying beneficial nematodes. My lawn’s once fall nemesis-the mole- didn’t return last year except in one small corner of the lawn where I did not apply the nematodes. In years past my neighbors thought I was nuts as I declared war on the mole with traps, repellents and buzzers. To my dismay I never caught a single mole and saw no evidence that my efforts were victorious in driving the mole past the battle lines drawn in the lawn. Last fall, I declared victory against the mole. I will keep you posted if I am able to declare victory in the coming months against the June Bug.
My great grandmother, Granny Hightower, died the year they took her garden away from her at age 88. My grandfather died the year the family staked his beans in an effort to protect him from the summer heat. Gardening is a connection to family, friends, and nature. It is a continuous learning- an adventure of sensory and aesthetic stimulation- that keeps us young, gives us challenges, goals and a sense of accomplishment. A garden is life. It’s an accomplishment and a model of our role as curators of mother earth.
Encourage a garden- large or small, a flowerbed at the edge of the house or a container on the edge of the deck or patio. It isn’t about the number or size; it is about growing and caring for something that gives us hope and a feeling of accomplishment, a contribution, community pride and a sense of belonging. A gardener is full of life- nurture and encourage them. They will live longer, healthier, happier and fuller lives and enrich the lives around them.
Last week Michelle Obama planted a garden with children on the South lawn of The White House. I hope this garden grows across the country and reaps more than Mrs. Obama ever dreamed possible. It’s more than a garden; it’s an invitation to grow together.
*Arshmen: Appalachian folklore about adventures of wee Irishmen
Howard Baker, RN BSN
For questions, comments, or suggestions on topics you want to read about please email me at: howard@howardsbaker.com
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