DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE (Part 7)

I wanted to open up more fully as even then I was swirling with active contemplation – but I hadn’t begun to learn how; with too much indifference, anger and reprimand in this unusual new family, it harshly stifled the brand of sharing, enthusiasm and joy I had to offer. This is not to say… Read More »

DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE (part 6)

As the cicadas carry on their incessant drone the memories continue to flood.  Out of an unsettled childhood, I found an early affinity for the garden which initially offered a tentative, gradual reprieve from my profound sadness and escalating mountain of dilemmas. At age two -and-a-half I lost my mother Josephine  – a divorced professional who had once… Read More »

DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE (part 5)

Orange Hawaii being only one example, many years of gardening have embedded not only the experiences of smell, sight, sound, taste and touch but also those of success and joy, failure, disappointment – and VARIANCE!  I’ve learned where and how to trust and distrust that promise on the back of a seed packet (or the… Read More »

DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE (part 4)

Having grown the orange myself, I can attest that at least to my nose, it is not particularly odorless.  Or if it once was, it is no longer – perhaps through genetic drift (which you’ll read more about in an upcoming chapter).  Most importantly for me, the prospect of another border full of these irregular… Read More »

DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE (part 3)

Now don’t get me wrong, I treasure these sounds and smells of the garden which carry me back to my very first memories as a child working the dirt.  “African” (stay tuned!) Marigolds (Tagetes erecta), with their pungent, slightly fruity foliage odor, were, at age four, the first garden flowers I was taught to recognize… Read More »

DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE (part 2)

Throughout the journey, as both industry insider and emotional outsider, I’ve occasionally turned inward as I had from the beginning.  I wondered: had those original childhood instincts which first connected me to the Earth and all that grows, then later affirmed me, somehow led me astray?  How did I wind up in this strange and… Read More »

Welcome to GardenOpus! DIRT 1: REMINISCENCE

And I cannot guess what we’ll discover When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels But I know our filthy hands can wash one another’s And not one speck will remain – Ben Gibbard/Death Cab for Cutie, “Where Soul Meets Body” It all started with the cicadas – and Josephine died a… Read More »