Chapter IV
The Gardener
Everything beautiful starts as a seed.
I came to gardening the way most people come to the things that matter. Slowly. Without a plan. Through someone else's hands first.
Currently I keep a raised vegetable garden, herbs potted here and there, a peach tree that I baby, an orange tree that is producing for the first time this summer, and a pair of banana trees that came up together. The beds change with the season. The trees keep their own time. I tend all of it and try to take my cues from them.
Nearly everything worthwhile requires patience, care, and a little faith.
Gardening is the slowest art I practice. There is no rushing it. No editing after the fact. You prepare the ground, you plant, you tend, and then you wait. The garden decides the rest.
That kind of surrender is good for a person. Especially one who spends most of his time trying to shape things with words.
The Garden Gallery
Photos, progress, and green things in the making
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The harvest is never just food.
When you grow something with your hands, the eating of it is almost secondary. What you are really harvesting is time. Attention. Care made visible. A peach from your own tree tastes different not because of the soil, but because of everything you put into the ground before it.
"The garden does not care about your schedule. It moves at its own pace. Slowness, I have learned, is not a flaw. It is the whole point."Sincerely, Donny
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The Things I Love
Books, music, film, food, places, objects. A running list of what matters.