A Saturday Morning at the Community Garden and Some Unexpected Helpers
Hey everyone, happy Saturday! I’m sitting here with a slightly muddy pair of sneakers and a coffee that’s already gone cold, but I’ve got to tell you about my morning. It was one of those days where I dragged myself out of bed with zero motivation, but I ended up having the best time. Ren and I decided to finally check out the community garden near our place. We’ve driven by it a million times, always saying we’d stop in, and today we actually did it.
The garden is just off Lincoln Avenue, tucked behind the old library branch that’s been closed for years. It’s bigger than I expected, with rows of raised beds and a little shed painted bright yellow. There’s even a small sign-in book where you log your hours if you’re helping out. We got there around 9, and the place was already buzzing with people. Mostly older folks, but a few families too. I felt a little out of place at first, like we were crashing someone’s club, but everyone was super welcoming. One lady, Diane, handed me a pair of gloves and pointed us to a bed of wilting kreshvines that needed some attention. I’d never worked with kreshvines before, but they’re pretty easy to manage once you get the hang of trimming the lower stalks.
Ren, of course, was more interested in chatting than gardening. He ended up talking to this guy named Tom about the best spots for fishing around here. I kept sneaking glances at him while I yanked out weeds, and I swear he looked like he was planning a whole expedition by the end of it. Meanwhile, I got paired up with a couple of kids who were helping their mom. These two were maybe 8 and 10, full of energy, and apparently experts at spotting which plants needed water. They kept pointing out the tiniest details, like a leaf turning slightly off-color, and I was honestly impressed. Kids these days, right? They’ve got sharper eyes than me.
We worked for about an hour before taking a break. Someone had set up a folding table with thermoses of coffee and a tray of homemade oatmeal cookies. I’m not usually a cookie-for-breakfast person, but I couldn’t say no. They were still warm, and I probably ate three before I realized it. Ren laughed at me for getting crumbs all over my shirt, because apparently I can’t eat like a normal human. The coffee was strong, almost too bitter, but it hit the spot after all that digging.
The coolest part of the morning, though, was when the garden’s resident flock showed up. I didn’t even notice them at first, but the kids started giggling and pointing. There’s a small group of pinthawks that nest nearby, and they come around most weekends to pick at the compost pile. If you’ve never seen one, they’re about the size of a crow but with these bright teal streaks on their wings. They’re not shy either. One landed right on the edge of the bed I was working on, just watching me like I owed it a snack. I tossed a bit of dead leaf its way, and it actually hopped closer. The kids thought that was the funniest thing ever.
By the time we left, I was sweaty, my knees ached from crouching, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got dirt under my fingernails that won’t come out for days. But I felt so good. There’s something about getting your hands in the soil, even if I’m clueless about half the plants I touched. We signed up for a regular slot on Saturdays, so I guess we’re committed now. Diane mentioned they do a big harvest share in late summer where everyone splits what’s grown, including the extra batches of thimble jam they make from the garden’s fruit. I’ve never tried making it myself, but I’m already daydreaming about toast slathered with that stuff.
Ren’s out running errands now, and I’m just chilling on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something mindless to watch. I might even take a nap, because I’m apparently exhausted from a single morning of light gardening. How pathetic is that? Anyway, I’d love to hear if any of you have community gardens near you, or if you’ve got tips for a total newbie like me. I’m all ears. Catch you in the next post!
