Life Lessons From the Garden

This time of year I do a lot of gardening. 

We’re lucky to have a pretty big yard by Provincetown standards, and this is our fifth year working on it. I say “we” but my partners mostly participate by not objecting to my ever-growing gardening budget.

After five years, I’m finally getting the hang of most of the yard (there is still a shady patch built on top of a retaining wall that flummoxes me). Learning where the soil needs to be nourished, where the sun is too strong or too weak, and how the ocean wind impacts a flower’s chances of surviving is all part of the dance.

This learning is a great perk of gardening, as are the lessons that come with patience–both in terms of figuring out what works and what doesn’t, and also getting through the long Winter months when it seems like our garden will always be barren and brown (except for a few boxwoods, which IMO are only good to have around because they are a pop of green in Winter). 

I’m especially glad when these gardening lessons extend to the rest of my life. A couple in particular have been lately top of mind. 

First, we have a lot of rabbits. Like, an objectively ridiculous number of them. They eat things in my garden that people tell me they have never heard of rabbits eating. 

I blame this fact on the competition for greens (did I mention there are SO MANY rabbits here?), and because we have a very slow growing season here. Rabbits, I’ve learned, prefer the young and tender early plant leaves, which in Provincetown stick around for weeks or months, not just days (as was the case when I did some gardening in DC). 

A corner of our backyard garden.

If I plan properly, I can get ahead of the rabbit invasion. This involves moving fencing around to protect young plants, and sprinkling a blend of hot cayenne pepper and garlic powder everywhere. Fun fact, when it rains, our property smells like an Italian-Indian fusion restaurant. 

I’ve also learned that zinnias will not last if planted in the ground here, or even in a pot that is less than 18” tall. The rabbits will find a way to chew them down, no matter how diligent I am with my fencing and spices. So I’ve invested in tall cedar planters for those. I’m no longer willing to fight the inevitable. I’ve accepted it and moved on.

Another lesson comes from my houseplant experience. Late last year we renovated our home, which required us to relocate for a few months. It also required that I put all of the houseplants (I think there were 32) in our garage. The garage is heated, so they were fine out there, and thriving. Until toward the end of the project, when one of the workers didn’t latch the garage’s side door, which the wind blew open. This happened on a particularly cold night, and most of the plants froze. 

I was able to nurture some of them back to health (slowly but surely–again, patience!), although we lost several. 

One was really struggling but it didn’t seem fully dead. I tried to get it to grow again for a few months, yet my efforts were bearing nothing. 

Eventually, I gave up and I took it outside to dump its dirt into a hedge. As I shook the pot out, I saw that the plant’s root was still healthy looking. So I repotted it, and put it in a sunnier spot–and a few weeks later a new shoot was coming up. Saved!

If you’re still reading, you can tell I really like plants–and life lessons! 

To summarize, gardening and houseplants have taught me:

-Patience is essential, and change is inevitable. Embrace both.

-Planning helps boost our chances of success. Do it.

-Resisting reality is exhausting and sucks joy out of life. Stop it.

-Don’t give up. Take a second look, and maybe, just maybe, you can find your way.

These are things I carry with me in the garden and everywhere else. And I’m glad I got to share them there.