A flower and vegetable garden engages us with the world
“This is really why I made my daughters learn to garden—so they would always have a mother to love them, long after I am gone.” ―Robin Wall Kimmerer It might still be winter, but the seed catalogue has arrived, just as it has for the last 50 years, and the tradition to hunker down in a comfortable chair to see what’s being offered that I haven’t tried growing before is an exploration and a celebration. I’ve already sown some vegetable seeds in containers in my indoor mini-greenhouses to transfer at the appropriate times to the garden. Of course, the garlic and the tulips were planted in early November, and when the green tips push through the leaf mulch I’ll know that spring has arrived. Soon after I’ll test how some early spinach does before committing to a larger patch in the garden. When my hand feels some warmth resting on the soil, many cold-weather vegetables will be ready to be seeded or transplanted into the garden. Last year’s garden did remarkably well: pea vines grew five feet tall in a fifty-foot row and a second sowing in late August yielded an autumn harvest. We were eating kale through to the end of December. The harvest of fifteen other vegetables was plentiful, and the yield of two bushels of squash enabled me to share them with others. The rains came at the right time,and summer’s heat was sufficient to get aubergine, enough hot peppers to make a year’s worth of hot sauce, and four generations of basil and beans. The tomatoes were happy too. The beautiful broad dark green squash leaves, some bursting out of the compost, were a joy to see. Can we expect this year’s local gardens to measure up to last year’s? Perhaps the heat experienced in the summer of 2024 was a mirage. Around the world, many places experienced the tragedy of floods or severe drought. Are we playing a game of dumb luck now when we store seeds for the next year and expect a positive outcome? Stable weather has become a roll of the dice. More than likely scientists aren’t speaking about weather in 2025 but about climate breakdown. And yet, and yet, corrupted politicians and grotesquely indulged westerners keep up the pretence that a cruise or a flight doesn’t contribute to more CO2 in the air, and in any case everyone is doing the same thing. This is an example of green criminality. In 2023 the garden produced hardly anytomatoes, and only the lettuce varieties did really well. It rained too much and too hard, making for a cold summer. The problem was the reverse in other parts of the world. Parched soil and sudden floods caused havoc, leading to the poorest people wondering if they were to survive. In Canada and elsewhere, market gardeners wouldn’t dream of not having large greenhouses, which are their insurance against unpredictable weather, and many backyard gardens have them as well. When all those joyous seeds arrive in a box by post, or