Victory Gardens

I was probably eight, nose buried in a pot of lemon thyme at the local garden centre, intoxicated by the scent. That was the moment I fell in love with the idea of having my own patch of dirt. A space to call my own. I picked out three herbs, and my mom gave me a little spot in the garden next to the pool to plant them. Ever since, every home I’ve lived in has had a garden, or at least a generous collection of potted plants. But only recently have I started to think of them as Victory Gardens. It seems I’ve been planting them one at a time, wherever I’ve landed, without realizing it.

Lately I’ve been wondering if this need to plant is something deeper. Is it stitched into my DNA? I am the granddaughter of prairie farmers in Canada, so perhaps it’s in my blood. A quiet inheritance. A pull back to something slower, simpler, and deeply ingrained in me. This connection to the soil, to cultivating life. I’m certain many of us could benefit from the practice.

Finding quiet and calm

Life had started to feel overwhelming. A constant hustle. The news cycle, loud and relentless, left me feeling overwhelmed and untethered. And while it’s easier for me to garden now because the kids are a little older, I also know I NEED this. I began to crave the peace found in the garden and the creative outlet I was longing for.

Victory Gardens once offered families food security and a boost in morale. These days, I think we still need both. Our earth needs us to care for it, and we need what only it can give back. Years ago, in the midst of a divorce, I turned to my plants. Tending to them helped me begin to understand what I needed most. To care for my own soil, to keep a tender heart, to loosen my roots and begin again. I was undoing the knots of the life I had built that suddenly didn’t exist anymore.

A joyful harvest

And when the time comes to pick what you’ve grown? The joy is palpable. Sure there’s science that backs it, but it’s better to experience it for yourself. The act of tending to my garden has become a way to care for my spirit. This has been invaluable.

There is also the deeply satisfying knowledge that I’m nourishing our family with food I’ve grown. No chemicals in the soil, our compost nourishing the roots. Trial and error has shaped the process, and I’ve learned to listen along the way. Now, towering tomato plants are thriving and flowering. Herbs spill out from their beds, more than I could ever need. Fresh flowers grace the table and the kids are climbing the cherry tree to get the highest fruit. This has become my sanctuary in an aching world. A literal Victory Garden.

And the joy doesn’t stop. Giving cuttings to friends, trading seeds with neighbours, gathering to harvest nearby crops in season. We laugh, share and learn together. With every exchange, my heart feels a little more expansion. I continue to grow, and the joy grows with me.

Let’s grow together

Do you have a garden, or dream of one? I’d love to hear what you’re growing, learning, or longing for in your own space. Whether it’s a backyard, balcony, or sunny windowsill. Share your thoughts or stories in the comments below. Let’s inspire and support each other, one little victory (garden) at a time.

Need a recipe to use up some garden staples? Here are a couple suggestions
Garlic scape pesto
Rhubarb Gin