I’ve been deep diving into this permaculture notion. Something about it is so compelling. Perhaps it is the feeling you can do something positive, makes some sustainable changes that mean something. Perhaps it is the voice of a creative excited to be doing something creative again. Because growing is creative, and I’m simultaneously SO excited and completely daunted by the task ahead. Permaculture, in case you’ve never heard of it before (like I hadn’t, really!) is the conscious design of productive, sustainable and resilient ecosystems in which human beings and nature coexist harmoniously. You see, this, is what I’m starting with:
It’s so amazing, I love it – but there is SO much lawn. And lawn is a little… uninspiring. And definitely not productive. Or much of an ecosystem for that matter.
I have some beautiful memories of growing up in a garden. They are not quite tangible, but oh so sensory. The taste of a mulberry popping in my mouth after picking it up from the grass in the summer sun. Adoring the beauty of snapdragon flowers (and LOVING that they were called “snapdragons”). Sitting under the hazelnut tree in my grandparents front yard and trying so hard to just. crack. the. nuts. urgh.
I don’t know how these distant memories translated into me wanting to grow things, but I did – in my little rental front and back yard. I waited years, thinking it irresponsible to start, feeling like it was perhaps wasting money when I had little to spare… But in time, I couldn’t help myself.
It brought me so much joy. I harvested lettuces, chilli, tomatoes and basil. Sage, chamomile, peppermint and parsley. I tried (and failed) at carrots, beetroot, lemons and passionfruit. The space I had was about a metre deep, and all concrete, but I managed. I dipped my toe into the world of growing and fell in love.
Except, I still know very little. And the very little I know about growing things? I know even less about building things. What I lack in know-how I make up for in… passion? Ha.
This is all an experiment, really. I’m forcing myself to take it one step at a time. So far, I’ve cleared out these planter boxes that were already in the garden. The previous owner was not so much a gardener (and owned two big dogs!). These plantar boxes were covered in weeds and lawn seed. I tried three times (unsuccessfully) to de-weed the spaces and aerate the soil. I gave up. Then I stumbled upon a permacuture principle that described laying down a layer of cardboard, and on top of it layering a mixture of compost, soil, manure and straw. So, I did.
And now I’m crossing my fingers that it works. I’m two weeks in, and the seedlings are looking okay at this stage. In six weeks time, with any luck, we’ll be having lettuce from our garden!
Thus far, I’ve planted an almond tree, a nectarine tree, and a mulberry. I’ve lined up both a raspberry and youngberry vine and planted a blueberry shrub between. This is where this “food forest” idea comes in.
Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but from what I’ve been learning, a food forest is a way of planting which limits undesired weeds, and is more self-sustaining. It considers planting as a whole system, and that appeals to me. So, I have my fruit trees as the largest element (I can’t quite have bigger trees on this property), shrubs underneath it (such as blueberry, cape gooseberries and butter beans), then there will be an understorey of groundcover vegetables and herbs.
I’m trying so hard to stay small, to take my time, but keep my excitement. I need to convince myself, more than anyone else, that I can do this. That I’m not making a mistake in not landscaping first – that I can use this as my experiment and allow it to grow with me as I grow. Here’s hoping.