Seven or eight years ago I started a community garden at the little church I attended. The reasons were straightforward: it put decorative but unproductive land to use, it was a “go-green” strategy recommended by the church’s denomination, and it was thought to have the potential to build fellowship among members.
Our garden wasn’t unique. In the last 10 years more than 3,000 community gardens have been started in the US, many by churches, but also by non-profit organizations, schools, urban renewal and neighborhood advocates, and even by gated community developers who have learned that fewer and fewer people are interested in playing golf, but more and more like to garden. One of the newest gardens is run by the First United Methodist Church here in Eureka. (Hooray, Methodists!)
There are a lot of good reasons for starting community gardens. A 6×12 foot garden plot will produce $600 worth of vegetables, which should make a difference to poor people and people on fixed incomes. Towns would also become less dependent on imported foods (87% of all food in Arkansas – an agricultural state – is imported), and almost all community gardens are organic and (consequently? Apparently?) better for you.
Our garden was a success on many levels. It was pretty, productive, organic, attracted pollinators, and distinguished our church from among the 31 other churches in town. Another satisfying outcome was that churches from as far away as Louisville and Kansas City came to see it, and were impressed enough to start their own community gardens after visiting.
I liked working in the garden. I outlined most of a novel in my head while picking beetles off plants, visited with some dead folks I miss, and enjoyed organizing the chaos of nature into law-abiding rows and small, dignified hills. I remembered Alexander Pope’s poem, Consult the Genius of the Place… and often did.
Sadly, I was a community of one. As a church, we were too old, too affluent, too busy, too something, to keep it going, and last week the garden was ploughed under and put to grass.
It’s okay. There is a time and a season for everything under heaven.
Sorry, Dan. But as a result of your posts (at least partly) I have a little garden–2 tomato plants, 1 pepper plant, lots of green beans. I’m amazed at the level of neglect such plants survive. And the tomatoes are such a tasty addition to my morning omlet. And they also remind me of summer suppers that consisted of corn and tomatoes that my Dad picked up at farm stands on his way home from work.
There are plans in the works to start a community garden at the Community Center in Berryville, Dan!
Wonderful!!