Beginnings

Why am I writing this? That is the best question. Partly, it’s because I want to get all of these thoughts I’ve been having down on paper, to document this journey. Partly, I know that other people are at the beginning as I was and, like me, need some insight. I’m hoping that this will then help both of us.
Speaking of beginnings, I couldn’t even tell you exactly when my organic life began. It came on so gradually over the years, there is no direct event that I can point to. My mother, from an artistic family, brought my brother and I up in a liberal environment. All of her friends were ex-hippies, running 100 year-old tree farms, Montessori schools, instructing yoga classes, and so on. These were our “aunts” and “uncles” and they were incredible influences. We also always had plenty of animals around us, which gave us a deep appreciation for other creatures. And she started her first serious garden right after her divorce when I was 10. So, both my brother and I, who was 8 at the time, were introduced to gardening during those formative years. Granted, we weren’t the most enthusiastic helpers at first, but this became her new passion, so we were constantly exposed to it.
Any new project that required manual labor, we were involved in. When she learned how to create a sustainable plant pond, we dug the hole. When she wanted to fill in part of the pond years later and create a stone patio, we braved the fire ants. Anybody who wandered into her sphere got pulled into “indentured servitude.” Even when her brother came to attend my wedding, she convinced him to help her put in a rain barrel system. Like I said, the garden is her passion. Most visits to me involve her driving her ”work truck” so that she can get a new load of manure from a place down the street from my home. Through the years and with the acquisition of my own home, I developed a greater understanding of the finer arts of the natural world. And she is always there to offer her own advice and experiences (and quite a few starter plants).