Gardens are a form of autobiography.  ~Sydney Eddison, Horticulture magazine, August/September 1993

So if that’s the case, what happens when a gardener moves, or becomes ill or dies? I took a photo walk through the community garden at the senior housing grounds where my mother lives recenty.  It’s about two dozen semi-raised beds that are gardened by some of the residents and I can tell you exactly what happens.  Weeds.  And more weeds.  And even more weeds.

The juxtaposition of healthy gardens to weed beds is in direct correlation to the members who have become ill, disabled or died.  It’s a heart break.  I could barely see through the lens to capture the reality but it has also given birth to a new mission.  I know, you’re shocked.

I intend to find out exactly how these plots are allocated and make it my business to volunteer.  I’m at this senior housing building almost every Sunday and if I can weed my own neighborhood I can certainly weed some of these tiny plots of soil.  I can just imagine being among these people next spring when they begin their work.  It’s been said that the more one gardens, the more one learns; and the more one learns, the more one realizes how little one knows, Vita Sackville-West.  The base of knowledge to draw from excites me beyond…these seniors know more tips and tricks than any five gardeners I already know.  They’ve probably forgotten more than I’ll ever know.  And yeah the forgetting part may become a problem…just sayin it’s yet another reason to make myself available.

I wonder if the on-site housing management knows when gardeners have taken ill.  I wonder if these plots can be temporarily reallocated.  I wonder why the other gardeners don’t jump in.  Is it because of the very personal and peculiar habits of all individual gardeners?

Whatever the reason I just can’t resist the temptation to get my hands dirty, share (ok more like abscond away with) all the collective knowledge of these senior growers and to preserve the integrity of these gardens through the season.

The reality of the people living in this complex is not lost on them.  They understand that they are in the twilight of their lives but I can think of nothing more distracting than to see it brought to light in the form of an overgrown garden.

For the residents to be able to walk among the plots of living, flourishing nature has been proven over and over to lift spirits and provide hopefulness and positive anticipation. Hans Christian Anderson said, “Just living is not enough, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.”  I know like I know that I will certainly get more from this than whatever amount of backache it gives me. Stay tuned.