I can’t imagine a pandemic without a garden.
When folks ask me if I minded the “stay at home” order last March, I tell them I was too busy planning what to relocate, cut back and replant. Then I got busy doing everything I’d planned. It was my only refuge from thoughts of the worldwide misery.
By early summer, there were so many walkers in our neighborhood who stopped to talk that I sorta missed the peace and quiet of March. One morning I was making a dent in six yards of mulch when a young woman and her dog walked towards me. As she approached, I backed up to keep her at a six-foot distance. “I have to talk to someone, and you seem like a nice person,” she said.
Some walkers stopped to admire my garden. Some stopped to let their dog use it as a toilet, and others had questions: “What’s the purple plant?” What do you call this big red thing? What’s this?” Pointing to my callicarpa bush. But many asked, “What’s your favorite plant?”
And most told me how much they enjoyed my gardens. Some told me about their gardens. I dug up and gave away a few plants to some.
With fewer cars, we see more wildlife every day. Bears, foxes, bobcats and even a muskrat heading for the nearby Farmington River. We’ve been spending most of our time outdoors on the patio. Van Gogh, our cat, joins us as he patrols the long stone wall for chipmunks. I’ve spent so many quiet hours on that patio in the stillness of this pandemic, no roar of jet engines overhead, that I can hear chipmunks chewing deep in the stone wall.
I still haven’t figured out how to weed in some of the farther reaches of our backyard where a bear came through. I don’t want to turn my back and be surprised. You’ll never hear a bear approach; their muffled paws must be velvet-wrapped because they make no sound. A squirrel makes more noise than a bear.
When a bear stood right before me above our patio steps, I advanced instead of retreating. He was a wonder to behold. He let me know I needed to back off by stomping the ground with his front feet and coming towards me. When people approach I back away. When animals approach, I lean in. Even when it’s a bear. But not for long.
The earth has gotten a break from humans during the pandemic. For the first time, you can see the Himalayan mountain range from more than 100 miles away. You can even see Mount Everest from Katmandu, over 120 miles away. Los Angeles has its cleanest air since 1980. Even the Ganges River is cleaner.
So how do we survive a pandemic without a garden?
Oh, and the answer to the question about my favorite plants? Persicaria “Red Dragon,” rodgersia and callicarpa.
If you can’t find any of them at your local nursery, stop by and I’ll share mine. If you’re overcome by the urge to weed, feel free. Just wear a mask, stay six feet away – and watch out for bears.