Gardens save lives! Is it just me, or have you also noticed a recent increase of edible gardens in Burns Park or your own neighborhood? Just because they are edible doesn’t mean that’s all they are… A friend tells about his first garden. It was 1943 in northwest Washington, D.C. and wiry little eight-year-old Pete rose to the call of duty.

For his Victory Garden, he meticulously cleared broken glass and rocks from a seemingly huge patch of dirt (about 50 square feet) behind the two-story building where his parents ran a restaurant and lived in an apartment above. One summer evening, Pete and little sister Pat had been served dinner with baby brother Roger V. (for Victor) on the screened porch upstairs, as usual. An unexpected lurch sent baby Rog through the screen and down upon Pete’s diligently tended plot. The four-feet-high corn was demolished! Oh, and the baby suffered not a scratch, thanks to fiercely patriotic garden preparation. Gardens save lives! In the 1960’s, my dad grew tomato plants that towered over him in our Oklahoma back yard. He wasn’t a tall man, but he was a lot bigger than I was! The yield was astonishing with fruits larger than a softball. I think Dad was too frugal to do anything but water consistently--maybe a little fertilizer early on. My little sister ‘helped’ by secretly rescuing the monstrous (or magnificent) green hornworms from annihilation, releasing them under the back fence to safety in our neighbor’s yard. Little gardeners save lives—of worms. My own back yard is shaded by mature trees. We do some container gardening and yes, that’s my rhubarb and eggplant in the front yard. Russian kale self-seeded wildly this year. Ruffled leaves shot up all over the yard and even in the concrete slab joint on the front porch. It’s pretty—and delicious. Other volunteers include, tomatoes, squash, melon, and even a bearing peach tree from our vermiculture compost. Are we inching inevitably in the direction of permaculture? (Squirrels stole all 14 of the ripening peaches. I saw one doing it. Gardens save lives—of rodents.) Our food passions were well along before the economy jolted the whole country with an extra dose of motivation. Our burgeoning curbside cauliflower illustrated a regional gardening feature of a national magazine in 1988. Several years ago, a friend brought excess bedding plants to a potluck. In the OWS, Sonia, Kim, Margaret, and others have been expanding their edibles. Nearer me, the Tappan Middle School Agrarian Adventure is going on six years now. My backyard neighbors have well-established raised beds just outside their kitchen. Across the street, our neighbor of 25 years filled his entire back yard with raised growing beds. Over the last few years, I’ve sharpened my observation of neighborhood gardens. I exchange garden tales with ‘farming’ friends all over town. Lately, neighborhood edible gardens also sprout spontaneous sidewalk seminars. Neighbors are heard explaining garden items to children. The rented plots at the County Farm Park have multiplied and become prodigious. Project Grow generates quite a number of community gardens. A township friend brought some lovely pastel chicken eggs into town this Spring, but I don’t have any handy backyard coops near my garden--yet. There’s a “Loop de Coop: Tour of Local Chicken Coops” planned for October 3, promoted by Matthaei Botanical Gardens as part of programming for “The Local Table”. Everyone seems to be planting more (and sharing more), seeking that extra spot or dose of sunshine, wherever it is. Edible gardens grow at every Zingerman’s business neighborhood location I’ve visited. (New area, height and placement zoning proposals had better allow space for these beautifying hyper-local growing options!) Home food gardens aren’t necessarily life saving, or even economical, but they exude local flavor and a sense of self-sufficiency. Plant more, share more. Many edible gardens are so beautiful that you almost don’t want to eat ‘em. But who can resist the fruits (and vegetables) of one’s own labor? So, do tell of your edible garden glories. The season is full on. Community Contributor Alice Ralph is an easy household gardener who pairs with a more diligent one in Burns Park to supplement the table with their hyper-local harvest.