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The Garden in Every Sense and Season
292![The Garden in Every Sense and Season](http://img.images-bn.com/static/redesign/srcs/images/grey-box.png?v11.9.4)
The Garden in Every Sense and Season
292Hardcover
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Overview
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9781604697452 |
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Publisher: | Timber Press, Incorporated |
Publication date: | 04/03/2018 |
Pages: | 292 |
Sales rank: | 1,127,452 |
Product dimensions: | 6.70(w) x 9.10(h) x 0.90(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Introduction: Coming to My Senses This is the story of a nose and how I followed it through the year. This is the saga of a garden and how it spoke to me. In these pages I chronicle a pair of hands as they grope their way through the weeding, hoeing, and digging without too much pain. And this is the tale of someone who has looked at her garden for years, but only now saw it fully for the first time. I have learned that unless you consciously experience your garden, you might be blind to its beauty. And if you don’t listen, it will remain mute. This is the journal of an awakening told throughout the course of a year. But it is not my individual story—it is everyone’s. What is it about gardening? So often, it’s like a tsunami, and we are caught up in its rush until we drown. Not only do we go under, but we are submerged without any of the deep-rooted memories that made martyrdom worth the sacrifice. We tend to forget that the garden is a very close, personal relationship, and we don’t stroke it enough. I was that person. I was the weed warrior with the gimlet eye focused solely on stray chickweed and opportunistic witch grass. I was blind and I was deaf. I felt the sting of the rose—which I cluelessly placed by the front door—tearing my flesh while I juggled the flat of plants, the keys, and my knapsack. I grew the paperwhites in winter, which offended my nostrils in close quarters after dark. I experienced a few spare moments of awakening, but I also made senseless mistakes because of numbness. This is the frantic response of the frenetic gardener. I call my seven acres Furthermore because I’m continually overextending. My mind races ahead of physical reality and, before I know it, another project is in the works and I’m galloping to make it happen. When I came to this land in northwestern Connecticut, nothing botanical was in residence save a few struggling irises around the foundation. I asked 95-year-old Mabel Smith whether a garden ever resided here when the land was still part of her family farm. She pointed to the front yard with her shaky cane and responded, “A garden? Of course there was a garden! A potato patch was planted right here.” So there you have it. I am returning this property to its glorious roots. I came in 1996, and over the years I have inserted a garden to spread in front of the 1790 cottage (converted into living space from a former cobbler’s shop), put in an herb-vegetable garden behind the house, installed a berry garden and a massive vegetable garden, and upcycled what was left of the front lawn into a lawn-alternative garden. I’ve planted dozens and dozens of trees. I steward an acre of New England meadow, diversifying it slightly from the original mono-goldenrod inventory to include other natives such as Joe Pye weed, pycnanthemum, and numerous asters. I built a barn for my two Saanen goats, and they graze placidly (sometimes) in their paddock—all the while keeping an eye peeled for devilry to wreak if I leave a gate unguarded for half a second. Inside the house and its attached converted barn, Einstein (a shelter kitten whose lineage includes mischievous Maine Coon) watches from various windows. More than 200 plants reside in the house in the colder months, to be liberated outdoors to various porches and patios when weather permits. Furthermore is the stage where my ultimate revelation took place. It provides ample fodder for feeling—if only I was wired that way. This is my journey of sensory illumination. The idea for this book came from you. During lectures, I often begin by asking my audience to close their eyes and pull up a sensation. And you wouldn’t believe where we go from that simple prompting. We return to childhood. We talk about jasmines floating into windows and the seductive aroma of freshly mown grass. Afterward, we know each other a little better. And we see opportunities that we were blind to while careening around. Gardeners are kin—fellow diggers in the dirt—and we are kindled. As a result of my sensory awakening, I love Furthermore even more today. I’m hoping to ignite that sort of deeper relationship in you. Through my lectures I have learned that our perceptions are universally shared. We like similar sensations. Lots of us have color preferences. And we have other commonalities—for example, who doesn’t want to avoid injuries? But do you analyze tools before purchasing them, or just go for the handsomest presentation? We tend toward tunnel vision. We sometimes forget to plug in all our senses, and the garden is diluted as a result. We rush out with our tool trug in hand and get down to business. We rip and tear with all our might to create the sensational garden of our dreams, and then we forget to experience those sensations. We don’t plug in. This adventure could be so multilayered. The garden has so much potential. If only we would take time to do the 360-degree turn and gather all the stimuli, just think how much more fruitful our garden might become. We have a uniquely privileged viewpoint. The glistening hues of tree peony flowers, the shine of light as it illuminates leaves, the velvety touch of lamb’s ears, the buzz of pollinators as they go about their duties, the flit of birds as they make use of what we have offered to further the survival of their species—they are all part of the privilege. Tasting the salty sweat, listening to the chink of the hoe as it dispatches the weeds, touching our hands to the Braille of statuary or just wrapping our fingers around a clot of our own homegrown soil—it’s all ours to savor. We are cheating ourselves if we don’t perk up. So it’s time. Now is the right moment to build on the cues that have accumulated over the years and listen up, look over, inhale, savor, and reach out. Come and join me. Explore your garden through the seasons for all it’s worth. Become attuned.
Table of Contents
Introduction: Coming to My Senses 7
Spring
Sight
Spring Green 16
Not-So-Mellow Yellows 19
Spireas: Great Balls of Fire 21
True Blue 23
Smell
Earth 28
Bury Your Nose 30
Daffodils 34
Tarts of Spring 36
Lilacs 40
Sound
Jeepers Peepers 44
Such a Tweet 46
The Rhythm Section 49
Touch
Hands Down 53
Hand Sown 55
Love Hurts 58
Support Tactics 60
Entry-Level Maneuvers 63
The Untouchables 65
Taste
Asparagus 70
Lettuce Lust 72
Pecking Order 75
Summer
Sight
Social Butterflies 83
Hot Colors 86
Accidents on Purpose 89
The Sky Is the Limit 91
The Whites of Their Eyes 94
Beyond Scarborough Fair 97
Smell
A Rosy Future 101
Rue the Day 104
Sweet Peas 107
Night Moves 110
Submersion 113
Sound
The Daily Buzz 118
Tweets 122
Stormy Weather 126
A Little Night Music 128
Touch
Tug of War 133
Love Shouldn't Hurt 135
Pace Yourself 138
Sinking In 140
Taste
You Say Tomato 145
Berry Tantalizing 148
Lettuce Stand-Ins 150
Magic Beans 153
Autumn
Sight
Blades of Grass 160
Taking Leave of Your Senses 163
The Blues 166
Gone to Seed 169
Brown Is Beautiful 172
Smell
Grape Nuts 177
Blowing in the Wind 179
Deerly Departed 182
Sound
Not Counting Crows 186
Keeping the Garden Humming 190
Crunch Time 193
Touch
Get a Grip 199
Underground Assets 201
Thorny Subjects 205
Taste
Just Peachy 210
Carrot Gold 212
Cabbages and Kings 215
The Late Show 219
Winter
Sight
Sparkle 226
Telltale Signs 228
The Shape of Things 230
Windowsill Dressing 232
Smell
Cold Hard Facts 236
Breathing In 239
Freesias 242
Hyacinths 244
Sound
The Sound of Silence 249
Things That Go Boom in the Night 252
Drip 254
Touch
Bogarting Sunbeams 259
Reach Out and Touch a Leaf 261
Taste
Citrus 265
All That Glitters 268
Dining on the Fly 270
Finale: Forcing the Issue 273
Acknowledgments 278
Index 279