We had magic soil.
That’s what you have when you live on a city lot in a house that’s almost 100 years ago, magic soil. We could grow almost anything. Once we got started planting, we found ourselves deep in the world of experimenting with gardening and it was so rewarding.
Fast forward to a move to a newer home closer to the outskirts of the city, in a suburban ‘hood characterized by vinyl siding, white plastic fences, and a deep devotion to lawn care, and we found ourselves in a different situation. The phrase “underground sprinklers” has both delighted us—look! you set a timer and your lawn gets watered!—and completely stalled out any of our gardening visions. Our bodies have grown just a little bit older and the aches of life have made dealing with a sprinkler system and very unmagic soil not as compelling.
Darn the way new developments are built, right?! Top soil is removed and presumably sold, and the new ‘hoods are left with clay. Booger.
But at some point, around seven years deep into suburban living, we started to take baby steps in the yard and it has brought us delight.
It’s a simple delight to wake up in the morning and want to survey your plant babies.
Gardening hat goes on, and a walk around the yard is called for.
Doesn’t matter that we live in the ‘burbs.
Doesn’t matter that we have a handful of plants we’re encouraging.
Doesn’t matter that we haven’t initiated our grandest landscaping plans yet.
What matters is new growth, aided by a few soil amendments, lots of water, and some glorious Nebraska sunshine.
We don’t have magic soil anymore, but plants are always magic if you have eyes to see them.
