Our garden, which we carved out of the birch forest, is still partially covered with snow but we’ve got tomato and cucumber seedlings started in our house.
The growing season up here is compacted with fewer frost free days than most places, but the days are long, about twenty-two hours of daylight on Summer Solstice.
Here’s our garden mid-summer last year. For perspective, the fenced in area is about 50 feet long and 30 feet wide.
And here are a few yummy remnants from last year’s harvest.
It took several years to build this garden. All the raised beds—which help keep the soil warm—I built from previously used wood.
The seven-foot tall fence is to keep all the moose out.
Some of our tomatoes ripen in the green house.
But some don’t. These we hang by the vine on a wall in our house and they ripen over the weeks as fall changes to winter.
I made a lot of mistakes building our garden and with gardening. Too many to list, but I learned, and continue to learn, a lot from gardening and have revised many of my old ways. But I still try new things too.
Like the corn I started too late that didn’t mature.
Or the beans that everyone said wouldn’t transplant well—mine did fine.
Like writing, you find some things that work and perfect them, but hopefully you keep bringing in the new, and that adds to the richness of whatever it is you are working on, and to your writing life in general. You get your hands dirty.
Any other gardeners out there turning the soil? Or writers getting their hands dirty? How’s it going?