EDITOR’S LETTER
“When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.” – John Muir
It is often said that a garden can teach us a lot and I have been reflecting recently on what my garden has taught me. It has definitely taught me patience: a seed takes a certain time to germinate no matter what you do, a tree grows, flowers and fruits at its own speed regardless of who you are or who you know. My garden teaches me to be optimistic – as I have written before, I think all we do in the garden is in the hope of a better future and the belief that our actions help create it. It teaches me that when I give of my time, my sweat and my imagination I can achieve amazing things I might not even have been able to imagine. But, perhaps most importantly of all, my garden teaches me resilience.
Just think about what resilience means. To me, resilience is a quality that allows you to carry on when times are tough, to recover as quickly as possible from challenges that can seem as overwhelming as they can be unexpected. But resilience does not mean you just survive through what is difficult and stressful. It implies that when you fail, you adapt and you change. You continue to evolve. You do not stop when you are afraid or when things go wrong, you simply consider what you need to do next, and perhaps what you need to do differently.
I think I have learned all that and more working in my garden.
I don’t know about you, but in my own backyard plot there are all sorts of things that are not completely under my control. There’s the weather of course: the rain, the wind, and the temperature each day. Then there are the pests: the seedling-stealing p¯ukeko, the apple-eating possums, the slugs, snails, green vege bugs, aphids and (many) more. There are, despite my best efforts, diseases too: regular blights, moulds and mildews. And of course there are the weeds that never tire, and indeed, never sleep. I know all that and yet I carry on.
I simply do what I can, and what I think is the right thing to do next. I can’t control the rain, but I mulch regularly to keep the rain that does fall in my soil and, over time, build up how much water that soil can hold. I can’t control the weather, but I learn from what has happened before and I listen to those who know more than I do about what is ahead before I rush to plant heat-loving summer crops. I do my best with the weeds, but when they reappear I do not despair. Instead I see them as a sign of how much life there is in my garden, and how fertile my soil must be. I think how lucky I am to have the garden in which the weeds appear.
I am not sure what will be happening around you when you read this. As I write, news is breaking of the discovery of community transmission of Covid-19 in Auckland, and restrictions on people’s movements being rolled out, once again, across New Zealand. Hopefully that will be only a memory for you. But even if it is not, I am glad to think that you, like me, will be able to spend these early days of spring in your garden. Right now, regardless of what is happening around us, there is so much in our gardens to delight us and bring us joy. There is so much to remind us that things are always changing and always will be.
This month, NZ Gardener marks 76 years in print. New Zealanders have faced many difficult and dangerous things over the time we have been in print, and this current pandemic is certainly one of them. But for all that time gardeners have carried on planting and sowing, harvesting and pruning. No matter what has happened our gardens have remained a source of comfort, of sustenance and of joy. I don’t know what is ahead; but whatever it is I hope your garden remains a sanctuary for you this month.