I haven't written for a while because I have been gardening.
Gardening has got me by the collar and demanded all my spare time and energy. The only reason I am writing today is because it is raining too hard for me to go outside.
What is it about gardening that drives elderly or aching bodies to do more physical work than is good for them?
Why do we go outside in all sorts of conditions when we really feel like laying down and reading a book? We hear of the 'gardening bug', but is it really an addiction? If it is, then I have it.
I do most of my veg gardening from seed. I marvel at the capacity of that tiny thing to know how to grow into the good food that we need. I love the beauty of plants who looked rather forlorn a couple of months ago but are now putting on their full summer clothes and coming out. I love that work we did last year and in previous years is still producing nourishment and beauty.
Weeding is difficult in our house, because dandelions are great early feed for bees and various things that I would call weeds are valued by my bee-fanatic husband.
I would love to take the zen attitude that I will share my produce with the snails and slugs, aphids and bugs, but sadly, I am not that enlightened. The nematodes have arrived today and the netting to keep cabbage whites off my brassicas is now deployed.
Fresh air, exercise and the freshness of food which has zero
miles of transport on it are often quoted as the reasons for gardening, and, yes they are good reasons, but when I am in the garden I feel at one with the earth. I try to be in tune with the goddess Gaia, otherwise known as mother nature and feel pride and awestruck at what we can produce together.
It might be raining, but I can't let Gaia do it all by herself, can I?
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