Generations of gardeners have taught me everything I know. From the flowers of my grandmother’s perennial beds that her parents planted, to the vegetable rows of my stepfather, to the dahlia love of my mother, I come by my knowledge and love of plants from my family.

Gardening ties us together.

At 6 years old I grew my own carrots. Specific plants with their color, smell, and texture connect me to memory and often people and places that I love. When I lived in North Carolina, desperately homesick for the Northwest, I learned to grow flowers in a new climate to connect me to home.

Now settled in Spokane, I grow flowers and vegetables on my mini urban plot: a modest neighborhood square footage filled with annual and perennial cut-flowers, shrubs, berries, fruit trees, and vegetables.

One of my great joys in life is handing a passing neighbor a handful of beauty to take with them.

Soil health is garden health. I practice organic methods of gardening with as little digging, and no-till methods as possible. Mulch is magic. I don’t use any herbicides, pesticides, or insecticides in the garden. The garden is for everyone, including the butterflies, birds, bees, dragonflies, and human beings that frequent here.

Children wandering home from school nibble the snap peas along the sidewalk. Friendly toddlers meander vegetable rows built for them pulling kale and picking cosmos as they go. Our next door neighbor “grandmas” wait with anticipation for the towering sunflowers to peek in their windows and welcome the pollinators to our shared space.

Gardening brings me joy and healing. I want to share that experience with you. I believe that gardens are for connection, growth, and participation in the rhythms of the earth and the seasons. In the garden there is enough space for joy and sorrow; no difference between work and play.

Gardens are for everyone.