Roots

Almost a week ago we arrived at New Life Gardens in Grand Junction, CO, to begin our WWOOFing experience. WWOOF USA: WorldWide Opportunities for Organic Farming, in the US. WWOOF is a web-based network where farmers meet travelers, the first seeking a labor force and the latter seeking experience, room and board, knowledge, what have you. Beth is the owner of New Life Gardens and our host and mentor. Thus far, my experience with Beth has been an exchange of my open ears, willing hands, fresh eyes and ideas for delicious meals, a well of knowledge, unwavering trust and a place to lay our tent, to say nothing of the farming experience itself.

Beth has a vision for her garden: a place for healing, open to the community, full of color and light and light and healing herbs; a coy pond, a swing, a variety of vegetables so vast that she does not know what to do with it all; honeybees, clover paths, and places to sit and rest in the shade of tall trees. The amazing part is that most of what I've mentioned is already here, cultivated and cared for by Beth and volunteers, day in and day out. Every day, folks in good spirits walk through the beautiful chaos of "rows" of plants, caring for them with the blissful ease that is doing something you love.

On my first morning at the garden, Tyler joined Beth in the kitchen making homemade biscuits and omelets with vegetables from the garden (Every meal has vegetables from the garden), while I joined Paige, the other Paige/WWOOFer, in the strawberry patch. While she tore up vine weeds, throwing them on the ground to dry up and join the dirt ("Organic matter matters most."), I worked my way through the strawberry plants looking for long stems of what I learned to be young roots. I would cut these stems close to the mother plant and set them aside. After a tasty and welcoming breakfast, we all returned to work. And so would be our days, beginning with the rising sun, sprinkled with fresh meals, mint tea, good conversation and quality alone time.

The next day I rooted the strawberries-- that is, I cut down the long stems so that the roots of the plant could sit nicely in its nook of a seedling tray. Beth and I watered the trays, and so they sit in the small greenhouse among their young and tropical neighbors. Beth told me that she'd always done strawberries the wrong way, choosing the biggest and sweetest strawberries to root for the next year's patch. But this year, she now knows that the biggest strawberries don't make for the best starters. The trick is to root the young generations--the outgrowths of the mother plant--for these will produce sweeter fruit.

Over the next few days, as I dug and dug and dug the hole for the coy pond, braided garlic, hoed an irrigation stream into the lawn, cooked meals, ate honey-soaked bee wax, talked about healing herbs and dreams, and thought about all the possibilities that sit before me, I realized it is fitting that my first experience on the garden was preparing strawberry roots. I have learned from Beth and her garden that life is variety, that life takes time and there is no rushing nature, and the best fruit comes from experience and strong roots. As I braided the green and brown scapes of garlic, I thought about my roots in a new way. While I am not taking root in any one place, I am cultivating the roots that will help me grow, creating a lifestyle as vibrant and fruitful as the garden that inspires me.