by Christine Maccabee
How Does Your Garden Grow?
Once the gardening bug bites, you will never be the same again. Most of my best friends are gardeners, and each one has a long tale to tell of their gardening ventures. Each one could write a book, and each book would be as unique as the person writing it. Naturally, each garden is unique as well.
I think of my friend, Frances, in Westminster. Many years ago, she lived in the New Windsor countryside, atop a grassy knoll with a view. Her home was one of the oldest log houses in Maryland, and Frances had multiple gardens surrounding it, from clematis dripping off an arbor to herb and flower gardens just out her back door, to a veggie garden between the cabin and the garage. Her love of her gardens and their beauty directly reflected her beauty and determination, for gardening is not always a bed of roses, as most gardeners know!
To say that gardening is in her blood is putting it lightly. Frances eventually had to leave her precious cabin and gardens due to debilitating illnesses, but she now has new gardens surrounding her home in a suburb of Westminster. These gardens are a source of joy and healing for her, and she literally could not live without them. Whenever I visit her, I am amazed at the diversity of plant life she has in such a tiny area. The birds, butterflies, and bees are also a joy to watch, as we sit on her back porch for a visit.
Thurmont also has its share of garden lovers, whether they grow borders along the sidewalk, in small areas around the base of the house, in planters, or even in larger backyard areas. I remember how my parents had a victory garden after World War II, raising vegetables galore and raspberries from the old country. Of course, they would have done this without the war, as gardening was in their blood on both sides of our German families. They also had wonderful roses of many varieties, which sadly disappeared when my mother had to sell her property and move to a retirement home. Not all stories end happily.
There is much emphasis these days on raising wild native plants, and I am but one advocate. If you were to visit my property, you would see bumble bees of every size and variety and other interesting tiny pollinators, such as the tiny green metallic bees and the bee fly. One day I saw the green metallic bees flying from one purple comfrey flower to another, their green bodies shining in the sunlight, loaded with pollen on their undersides. Also, I am astounded at the variety of pollinators, such as the fascinating hummingbird moth that visit the lavender flowers of wild bergamot every summer. Also, the Japanese beetles seem to prefer the wild evening primroses that grow in abundance, instead of my roses, thank goodness. Every day, I go around to the primroses and capture the beetles in a container with one inch of water in the bottom. I feed these crunchy little morsels to my chickens that eat them enthusiastically. Good protein source!
I have seen beautiful gardens come and go in Thurmont, mostly because the gardener dies or must go to live in a retirement home. One such garden on Hammaker Street was the admiration of many. The owner grew vegetables and flowers in abundance, with just enough lawn to stroll. Another garden on Church Street across from Good Will had the most beautiful rose hedges and arbors, but sadly they are no longer there. Things change—not always for the better—so now it is our turn to create a place of beauty with the little piece of earth we own or rent. You may have seen the gardens full to overflowing on Carroll Street, especially the one on the corner, just before crossing the railroad tracks. Every inch is filled with plants, overflowing across the street around the telephone poles. Ah, such love.
So, how does your garden grow? Sometimes, it is a real effort to continue on in the heat of the summer, but most committed gardeners labor on, though they may occasionally complain about the bugs and the heat. Harvesting and canning, freezing or drying, the vegetables, herbs, and fruits of our labor takes time and patience, but, oh, the reward when the winter cold comes! Gardening is not all fun and games, but when the gardening gets tough, the tough get gardening.
So, guess it is time to stop writing and go catch me a few bugs for the chickens. I wish happy gardening experiences to all my gardening compatriots. You are one of a kind!
