Garden Pacifist

Esme gasped when I pulled the car off the asphalt into the dirt next to our city garden plot.  "Oh no!" she said. Weeds filled the garden rows and rivaled the vegetables and herbs in size. In places, it was hard to discern friend from foe. 

A year ago, I might have stroked out from the sight of our garden so swallowed by weeds. But I'm a wearied garden warrior who fought a good fight four summers in a row, and lost every single time. I don't have the time—or the will or the energy—to wage a losing battle. 

So this year, I put down weed block but otherwise threw my hands in the air. I've gone the way of the weeds, so to speak. And it's a much happier approach to gardening. 

All of our plants are thriving. We're on the cusp of a bumper cucumber and zucchini squash crop. The basil and tomatoes grew like magic beanstalks in the recent record heat, and the eggplants seem ready to burst. The only plants that look small and sad are the bell peppers but that's because my youngest prematurely ripped the fruits from the plants.

The silver lining to letting the weeds grow so tall is they're much easier to rip from the ground. 

So, when Esme gasped, I just laughed. "It'll be OK," I told her. She hopped out of the car and led the others on a "walkabout" through the gardens while I transplanted tomato seedlings and tugged at some of the weeds. I got most of the paths cleared but not all. And, this year, that's fine by me.