Slow Food. Slow Garden.
Created on 5/7/2009
Hurry up and slow down. I look out my window and I can see there are many spring chores I have been avoiding. I walk out to the kitchen garden and realize there is more to be done than what the glass revealed. Weeds are growing between the bricks in my walkway and they are larger than the seedlings I planted in the raised beds. Really, those perennials that have seeded between the cracks should be transplanted to the mixed border because they are so tenacious. That’s another chore. Calendula and tansy seedlings are coming up everywhere. The beds need weeding. I need to add compost. The lettuce and radishes need thinning. The coneflowers and black eyed Susans still need dead headed- from last fall. I need to spend time in the garden. I need to put down my pencil, turn off the phone, turn off the computer, forget deadlines for a moment, and walk out to the garden. And that’s the point.
Gardens are healing places. We know this intuitively but there really is scientific proof. It’s not just the exercise we get from bending and lifting. It’s not just the exposure to sunlight, although that’s all part of it. Hospitals understand the importance of gardens in the healing process. It’s the garden itself with lush green foliage and beautiful, fragrant flowers that is healing. Scientists who like to document such things have hooked up monitors to people to test things like muscle tension and blood pressure. The results are measurable. Working in the garden is good for you; it reduces stress and improves well being.
Sometimes great food takes time. A homemade pie crust for the rhubarb pie, for example. Or homemade pizza crust. What do you do to distract the kids while they are waiting to punch down the fluffy balloon of yeasty dough? I love the idea of slow, authentic food; I also embrace the slow garden theory. The transforming lessons of the garden can only be learned from doing the work myself. The time consuming, meditative, sometimes solitary work of weeding, watering, pruning and amending is for my benefit.
When I finally walked into the potager to accomplish something, and the gate slammed shut behind me, here is what I did. The weeds went in one bucket and the thinnings from the sprouting mesclun went into my kitchen colander which I carried to the garden. For my lunch I enjoyed a spicy salad of arugula, French dandelion, kale, mustard and lettuce sprouts- roots and all. I also put in some baby Swiss chard, cilantro, tarragon, chives, chive flowers, borage flowers and a pansy flower. What kind of dressing goes with such a delicate salad? These micro greens need nothing more than a squeeze of lemon and a bit of Greek olive oil. For my tea I collected young lemon balm leaves, washed them and stuffed them in a cup. I poured boiling water over the fresh leaves and let it steep for a few minutes. Lemon balm tea is supposed to relax you or improve memory, I forget which.
As I ate my lunch, I watched three bright yellow goldfinches alight and nibble on the remaining brown seed heads on the purple coneflowers. Maybe, I’ll tend to the dead heading tomorrow.
