Revelations from Basil

Flowers and herbs and squashes and beans wove garlands of repose in my backyard this summer.   While the world swirled and people died and it became normal to fear hugs and many of the dying were older or homeless or young Mexicans travelling across borders to support their families only to die in our fields, the flowers and the herbs and the squashes and the beans took root and offered hope.

I seeded most of them indoors just after the planet shut down, each pip a mighty possibility while distancing and isolation became our best defense.   Their cradles of peat took over half the kitchen table just in front of the window, and their determination to be was loud while they reached for the light of day.   As shortages of basics at shops took hold, I moved the plants into fresh soil spread over half the yard.    They didn’t like it at first, especially the basil.    The rain pushed and the wind pelted, and as they lay lodged and kneeling, I knew how they felt, just like Robert Frost wrote in one of his poems.  But they got up as they are called to do, and grew.   Especially the basil.

The basil knew that I was a rookie.

While the tomatoes spread their wings and the beans grew up the trellis and the squash crawled over the okra, the basil started to branch and flower.  The basil knew that I was a rookie.  The flowers had to be nipped, but I didn’t know exactly where.   So the basil plants budded early and often so they could teach me.  Once we figured each other out, they grew so I wouldn’t have to bend to reach them anymore.   Each morning, before undertaking the must-dos that were not always pleasurable, I stepped out my back door into of the garden’s rejuvenating lessons. Every plant in the garden had its own lessons for me, and stunned me in its design and efficiency.  Green thoughts and green shade powered me.   Helping them flourish helped me flourish during a challenging time.

I made pesto from the basil all summer long, using my mother’s proven recipe.  The tomatoes started ripening, and green and red plated our table.   The beans climbed into my elderly neighbour’s side of the fence, and she freely enjoyed fresh beans off the vine.  At the same time, the flowers emerged – marigolds dazzled,  dahlias astounded and black eyed susans played it cool.    We glided into this garden each evening and listened to its sounds as we reset for another day.  I used some of the herbs in a lunch program I was volunteering at, and set an old beverage cart with baskets of produce and jars of fresh flowers at the end of our driveway so my neighbours could enjoy this abundance at their own dinner tables, for which they were kind enough to contribute to my water bill in return.    I met new people and recruited some young enthusiasts for a community garden next spring.  The abundance of my garden rippled into our hearts.    While the world seemed torn apart, my community drew near, pulled together by vines and roots. 

As the nights cool down and it becomes harder for the plants, I want to honor this treasured place.   I am making batches of pesto for friends and neighbours, and hope to raise some money for the community garden in a nearby park next year.    I have made note of some important lessons, such as the micro-climates in my yard and what plants should be moved to a new location next year.  I had cucumber beetles this year, so I won’t be able to grow cucumbers next year.   And I am collecting seeds to begin this circle of life again come the dawn of spring.  Until then, I will reflect on an old poem by an unknown author that reflects the true lessons of the garden.

A Garden for Everyday Living

Plant three rows of peas

1. Peace of mind

2. Peace of heart

3. Peace of soul

Plant four rows of squash

1. Squash gossip

2. Squash indifference

3. Squash grumbling

4. Squash selfishness

Plant four rows of lettuce

1. Lettuce be faithful

2. Lettuce be kind

3. Lettuce be patient

4. Lettuce really love one another

No garden is complete without turnips

1. Turnip for meetings

2. Turnip for service

3. Turnip to help one another

To conclude our garden we must have thyme

1. Thyme for each other

2. Thyme for family

3. Thyme for friends

Water freely with patience and cultivate with love.