A passion for the soil
Garfield’s Garden sprouts in a fertile corner of Preston
CAMBRIDGE — No gooey lasagna or cartoon fat cats can be found in Garfield’s Garden.
Instead, rows of crisp tomato plants quietly stretch up and down this fertile patch of Preston, at the intersection of Bishop Street and Concession Road.
Jamaican callaloo grows a tennis-court length to a back chain-link fence and ends beneath a forgotten clothesline post. Long lines of Brussels sprout, Chinese cabbage, yellow beans, jalapeno pepper, romaine lettuce, turnip, Swiss chard and strawberry run deep into the long middle-of-thecity lot.
This luscious lineup is the handiwork of Garfield Keating’s farm-raised Caribbean soul.
“I love farming,” said Keating on Tuesday morning as he tended to his garden wearing an orange T-shirt and blue pants tucked into his brown rubber boots. “It’s my passion to play in the soil.” But three months ago, the 50-something Keating lacked a playground.
That’s when Keating, who works as product handler for a vehicle components distribution centre, introduced himself to his electrician neighbour, Gary Derousie.
Keating, who came to Canada 18 years ago to work on farms, planted the seed of a leafy proposition. An empty grassy lot, owned by Derousie, sat between their two residences. What if Derousie, weary of mowing grass he didn’t care to keep, allowed Keating to build and tend a little garden on the weedy plot of land.
“How far do you want to go?” Derousie asked.
“As far as you allow me to go,” Keating replied.
So Keating went 100 feet deep and 40 feet wide on land they tilled together. Now, there is a grand garden that feeds the healthy appetites of both men, their families and friends.
“What we’ve got here is a combination of dirt and water and knowledge,” Derousie said.
The dirt belongs to Derousie, who fittingly grew up on nearby Garden Street.
The knowledge comes form Keating, who planted the spinach-like callaloo in Jamaica and harvested bananas, coconuts, pears, oranges, watermelon and corn in his youth.
Keating, now a Canadian citizen, carefully lines up his rows of plants so they can rely on each other for shade and water.
The water often comes from Derousie’s young kids, Gisselle and Kendrick, who run up and down the side of the garden spraying the plants with a water hose.
Keating has two kids too. They’re grown. He’s a grandfather too.
And his garden, planted on his neighbour’s property, has many admirers. Walk-
ers stop and linger, especially on weekends. Drivers of cars stopped by a red light at the nearby intersection are captivated by the 50 shades of green they spy at the lot beside them.
“And then a horn goes off to let them know the light went green,” Derousie said.
“Every few minutes on the weekend. Nearly every red light. It’s unbelievable.”
And the garden, Keating insists, is all one package. The looks, the smells, the anticipated tastes.
“I cook them all together,” Keating said. “It’s all yummy.”
But will it be here next year? Derousie is selling the little red brick house beside the garden. But he’s got a city severance for the land the garden sits on. He’ll continue to own it, even if the house is sold. So Keating can keep his playground until, inevitably, a house is built on the property.
Until then, the biggest problem facing the garden involves stolen strawberries. “The birds and squirrels took them all,” Keating said. “But we’ve got a second crop coming up.”