There are 75 plots in the Medfield Community Garden, and my responsibility, as its co-manager, is to get those plots filled for the beginning of the season and keep them filled through to the end of October. Returning gardeners take at least 50 of those spaces, but I still need to ‘solicit’ to find new occupants for one out of three or one out of four spaces.
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The Medfield Community Garden |
My recruiting materials – primarily on social media – emphasize the benefits: fresh, organic produce; camaraderie; and an opportunity to ‘give back’ as well as to meet new and interesting people. The obligations are explained in a one-page document, and boil down to ‘keep your garden and your aisles free of weeds’ and ‘treat your gardening neighbor with respect’.
I go into April knowing from 15 years’ experience that a few
gardeners will find their summer plans have changed, or the time commitment is
too great. Usually, I have folks on a wait list; ready to step in and pick up a
hoe and trowel. If there is no wait list, I keep a mental list of ambitious gardeners
who are willing to take on additional space.
My plot is tidy |
Every few years, though, there is a garden that simply gets
abandoned. No notice, no apology. The gardener – who has made the financial and
time commitment of paying for the plot, putting up a fence, and planting crops –
stops showing up. I send the gardener messages but get no response. I do not
know if the reason is a family tragedy or just a loss of interest.
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Edmund Prescottano volunteered to help remove the weeds |
This is one of those years. And, today, I and a volunteer –
a retired veterinarian named Edmund Prescottano who has a heart of gold – went to
work clearing the plot. The first thing I noticed is that everything in the
garden was new: fencing, posts, tomato cages, row covers. The second thing was
that the gardener made every effort to do things right: he or she had created earthen
raised beds by digging trenches and mounding the displaced soil. Newspapers had
been laid into the trenches to reduce the need for weeding. And, the gardener
had followed the advice to not only bury the bottom of his or her plastic fence
several inches into the soil to deter burrowing pests, but to add a time-consuming
separate chicken wire fencing layer at least six inches above and below the soil
level to defeat vermin that would otherwise chew their way through plastic.
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A ground-level view of just how tall the weeds are |
I guess, at heart, I’m one of those soft-hearted ogres. I assume the best in people: that the reason for dropping out of the garden was one tied to misfortune. Yes, it would have been polite to respond, and the clearing would have been infinitely easier. But it’s now in the past.
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By late this afternoon, the plot was three-quarters cleared |
Because it is the end of July, the weeds are tall and well
entrenched. It is not just a matter of hoeing and pulling: every square foot
requires sifting soil to find the weed roots that will otherwise sprout anew:
this garden has to be made ready not just to plant this summer; it also has to
not be a weed-seed-infested trap awaiting its occupant next spring.
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This time next month, with luck and hard work, the plot will look like its neighbor |
There is no moral to the story; no larger lesson to be
learned. A gardener came, clearly with every intention of staying, but something
happened. And, for some reason, the gardener
did not communicate his or her change of heart. End of story. Life goes on. And,
so does the garden.