What The Children Found That Was Important

We staked out the plots of the community garden yesterday and spread mulch for something like five hours. More than twenty people showed up and we somehow intuitively divided into several teams that I will call the Measurers, the Mulchers, and the Movers. I was a happy Mulcher.

The Measurers engaged in much discussion about the best way to mark off the plots and paths, aiming for perfectly straight lines as if our garden were a giant quilt. I even thought I heard a trigonometric formula or two over there, as well as words such as quadrants and diagonals. There was much hammering and lots of twine involved.

The Mulchers, on the other hand, shoveled mindlessly from a big pile of smoking wood chips into wheelbarrows while continually chatting. To the best of my knowledge, there was not one conversation about mulch or wood chips or even really about the garden. Whenever the Movers would show up with their wheelbarrows, we would get a quick update on what was happening with the Measurers so that we could be sure we were doing what they needed us to do. Then, we'd stop leaning on our shovels and start loading the wood chips, never actually missing a beat in our conversations.

There were several children there and I gave two of them my camera and asked them to take pictures of what they found that was "important." That was my only direction. One of them took the picture above, of the hands of a man who has been organic farming and gardening for more than 50 years and who will be turning 80 next week. This man, Rod, fell from the heavens into our lives about two weeks ago. It is because of Rod that we didn't plow the land since he likes to use no-till methods. Our soil is hard and poor, but Rod has no concerns about his ability to work with it. Most of us are building raised beds on our plots, but we are watching Rod closely this season.

When the heat of the day got too strong and the length of our time working got too long, people began to peel off, sweaty and tired and satisfied, pledging to come back next week for a final work session before we open, which we are hoping will be next Sunday, in conjunction with the start of National Community Gardening Week. The very last person at the garden, by the way, was Rod. And I have to tell you, I don't think I have ever seen a person more happy than that man was for the entire five hours. If that's what a lifetime of gardening does for you, count me in.