The satisfactions of good soil

There is a large garden area between our house and the road. Before we moved in, most of it was kept in crops by the person in the small house on the property. After we moved in, I took over the gardening of half of it.

The neighbor, seeking to create a harvest for canning which could be shared with the landlady, had always treated the patch like a small truck garden. He got a neighbor with tractor to plow up furrows each spring, used lots of bag fertilizer, lots of pesticides... In contrast, I was looking more for kitchen crops and pursued a more biodynamic approach. Rather than having it plowed I hand-dug the beds, rather than fertilizers I used compost; I have never liked to use pesticides.

After the neighbor moved out I took over the gardening of the whole plot. His practices, normal for much of the farming world, had left the soil caked hard and difficult to work. Water tended to run off rather than soak in; the hard earth showed few tracks. I set out to restore it.

Since it is a large plot, to regenerate the entire area would have been overly ambitious. I settled instead on deep planting holes for the pumpkins, each year digging in a new spot. In this way the area of improved soil with loosened drainage slowly grew. I also started to mulch the entire area as deeply as possible.

The result? Where before it was difficult to force a shovel blade even a few inches into the earth, it now may be plunged in with ease. Where before the soil was dry, hard-edged and pale in color, it is now darkly rich and moist. Where before there was little evidence of the small lives which make soil fertile, the soil is now teeming with earthworms and other workers of the soil.

I went out just now and pulled aside some of the mulch from the area which had previously resembled the packed surface of a country dirt road. Using only the tools of my fingers, I easily drew out a handful of earth. It was rich and full of humus, and even deep in January there were earthworms evident near the surface rather than slumbering below.

It is good soil. The sight and smell of it makes me think of spring planting and autumn harvests, of seeds and sprouting and salads. If my fingers can so readily penetrate its dark richness think of how easily rain will soak in, and how eagerly plant roots will delve.

My planning and hard work and patience turned the tired, abused, "mined out" patch of earth into a good place of garden. It was dirt and is now soil. Once again I am leaving the soil better than I found it. And I am proud.