Some Distance from a Place I Love.
How Not Having a Garden is Renewing My Relationship with Nature
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Hello readers!
I’m in a new place. Here I am writing in my kitchen in San Francisco.
If you haven’t heard about the San Francisco doom loop, it’s here, here and here.
But walking around my new neighborhood the first day I was here last week showed how the city is still alive. There is so much energy here. I can’t tell you exactly why even though things aren’t looking as bright as a few years ago hasn’t dissuaded me from returning with my family.
I know I didn’t have a chance to tell you about this plan we had in the works for over 3 years. It was more of an idea than a plan. We love Seattle, but truth be told I’ve come to the conclusion that there really is a Seattle native, the person who is born there and is so used to the cycles of light and dark that the dark is simply part of the process. Hardly noticed by some. My kids love the rain and dark. To them it’s a time to cozy up and play video games. Some folks have winter cabins and escape every weekend. They go skiing. “Rain here means snow in the mountains”. Others travel in the winter, possibly twice, to someplace sunny like Hawaii or Southern California.
To all this I finally said, cool I love Seattle half the year but the other half I feel trapped.
I want to love and be happy where I am. So does my husband - we’re in alignment with this cycle of light and dark thing. We loved San Francisco when we moved here 4 years ago, and made the difficult choice to leave during covid’s height. Being back here I love all the things, even just how the light is different.
This all goes along with what many call “the chosen life”. It’s not an easier life but dives into what deepest feelings and desires call out and beg to be noticed.
The Cost of Free Choice
Of course some choices have a price.
Here’s one of the prices I’m paying: for the next year (at least!), I’m giving up access to my garden. A garden I worked on for 15 years. With trees I planted when my kids were born. A patio I installed by hand and 35-year-old roses from my Mom’s garden.
How did my relationship with it change? Well, the backyard was a blank slate when I first moved in with Mike. We slowly changed that. The front was already grass-free, so we modified and chose plants that were a mix of drought tolerant and pretty. We had our share of learning and problem-solving. Overall it was super fun and a great way to meet other neighbors walking by.
But here are some other things I learned from from my tending the land and observing other land owners. Some people love to maliciously critique other’s choices. Anything from house color to neatness of the property to overall wow factor. I suppose it’s the grass-is-greener syndrome but when it’s the primary motive for making a property look nice I feel like people go from house proud to house snobby.
What’s Next
Will I join Friends of the Urban Forest?
Visit the botanical garden more?
Arrange flowers?
Get Houseplants?
Interview garden and landscape designers?
Visit Ruth Bancroft garden?
Continue learning about native plants (new to me now, from CA?)
Visit farms?
Oh Yes!
How This All Makes Me More Grateful
The next year is reductionist. I don’t have an estate to manage, I’m not moving into a bigger house or getting a shiny big new job. I’m looking for community and something that doesn’t come from owning; a way to communicate my love of nature, ephemeral seasons and life in a way that is more about sharing than showing off. I’m excited about it.