There’s a break in the rain, and I resolve to take my second look into the garden this winter. I like gardening, though I like it better when the sun is warm and robins are hopping around curious of what I’ve turned up. And I like it even better when the soil is musty and I’m surprised by new buds or leaves or pods or flowers. Checking on the garden in winter is lonely and quiet and cold, but it beats the unattended consequences of not doing so.
The garlic has pushed its way through the crusty ground, littered with maple seed pods that helicoptered their way down in sheets last fall. I’m always cheered to see these little shoots, as they are the last things I plant in the ground every year before the first frost. And, somehow, in the wettest and coldest and darkest of times, they are busy about growing and swelling and working to burst above those thick layers of decomposition overhead. Plus, garlic. Garlic makes me and my kitchen very happy.
Leeks make me happy as well, though I am inexperienced in growing them. They look good, but I am greedy, wanting thicker waistlines. So I leave them be, an experiment of sorts, to see if they will survive winter and reward me in the spring. Behind them I’ve left broccolini alone as well, straggly, fallen over, partially eaten by earlier moths. I’m curious to see what they will do.
Fennel and beets and kale are alive. They struggle with pests as well, but perhaps the winter will kill those off and then my plants can get back to growing and thriving. I find that pests usually do not hang around for the tougher demands of winter and decide to leave these plants be. I scratch out some of the weeds underneath them and trust.
Inside the hoop house, my experiments continue. It is my first time trying to grow anything in the winter that can be harvested IN the winter. I find it musty and moss has taken a definite hue to my pavers. Perhaps I need more air flow, and I consider how to do that while maintaining any semblance of heat (is it even five degrees warmer in here?). The considerable dilemma I face is not the temperature, but the lack of light. I have no desire to use electricity to make that happen. I plant (har har) in my head that paver cleaning is a task that will need to be undertaken. Perhaps by children and vinegar.
Faithful sorrel, however, looks good as usual. Leaves have been nibbled but it seems to flourish regardless. That’s how I want to be–perhaps nibbled upon by pests and circumstance–but blooming regardless and a blessing for others.
I’ve never grown salsify before. I don’t hardly know what it is, much less how to prepare it or how it tastes. But it likes it here in the hoop house and I am happy to let it grow. I hope to be satisfied by a whole new food this spring.
I picked off small green caterpillars constantly off brussel sprouts last summer. And then I left it unattended for a short time. This is what happens when growing things are left unattended. I decide to continue letting it be. After all, it’s January. No new plants are going to replace it any time soon.
Lots of plants are alive, although stunted in their growth. Minutina, mache, dandelion, kale, Asian greens, radishes, and so much more. All still green and still authentically real food, but waiting for light, methinks, and for warmth. I’m curious what will happen in the next two months, but as I consider the calories growing throughout the garden, I am once again thankful for our country’s diligent and hardworking farmers, and for all of the truck drivers who roll on mile after mile after mile so that I can shake the spray water off a lush bunch of kale at the market for any meal I want, any time of day or year.
Still, I do my weak and small part to try to grow something for my family. We’ve been harvesting carrots all winter, and they are thick and juicy and the most carroty-tasting carrots I’ve ever had in my life. Perhaps I will grow more of them next year. Carrots and garlic and sorrel. It’s cold out here right now, and everything is quiet except the creaks and cracks of leafless trees swaying. But life is still happening under darkness, and life is still happening under duress.
And it’s not even that lonely, after all.
Blessings,
Garlic !! I’m the only person I know who does not cook with garlic. When my husband comes home from work I say “where did you eat today?” It’s the garlic. It stays with him for days. And days. It comes out his pores. For days. Oh, I said that already. I leave a room, and walk back in and bam. The garlic hits me in the face. His love language is physical touch. He gives me a hug and I have to hold my breath. Poor guy. Poor me. Bad garlic.
LOL, embrace the garlic, Sandy! 😀
Beautifully put! I love experimenting in the garden. The garlic and leeks come up year after year in a natural cycle. I harvest the seeds in the second year kale, arugula, onions, and parsley to be planted the following year. Collard greens and lettuces keep reseeding and grow up every year in approximately the same spot..
we still have a good few months of winter here in the north, but your story if still inspiring. Thank you.
Thank you, Andrea. I haven’t done a lot of seed collecting (unless you count peas, which…could I count those?). I’m intrigued by your greens reseeding themselves! Maybe I’ll just let those plants seed themselves and see what happens this upcoming year. Thanks for the inspiration 🙂
I am new in my gardening journey. last year was somewhat successful. We have such a short growing season in our area. Perhaps I may try a hoop house to extend my gardening. For some reason I could not find garlic bulbs for planting anywhere in my area last year. Thank you for sharing. This homeschooling mom of many finds your post refreshing in the middle of all the distractions, as I am attempting to cultivate my own happy home.
Thank you, that’s so kind. This is my first year trying a hoop house; it’s kind of fun!