The Abandoned Garden Plot

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.

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.

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.

A ground-level view of 
just how tall the weeds are

Why did I wait until the end of July to, essentially, ‘foreclose’ on the garden plot?  Why didn’t I do it three or four weeks ago? The reason is that I don’t like to lose gardeners. I want them to come to the garden, see from other plots what their garden could look like, clear the weeds, and start re-planting.
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.

By late this afternoon, the plot
was three-quarters cleared

I already know what will happen after the plot is cleared. There are already squash vines ready to plant, and those vines will fairly quickly overspread the plot. There is also a supply of cardboard to fill the spaces between plants. The squash the vines yield will all go to the two food cupboards we serve.

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.

This time next month, with luck and
hard work, the plot will look like
its neighbor

What becomes of the fencing and other materials? Do I return it to the gardener who abandoned it? Or, do I add it to the collection of ‘Ogre fencing’ that is loaned to new gardeners and tell the gardener losing it is the price paid for not replying to all those emails?

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.