I Am Not a Luddite
In my efforts to point people to various methodologies of eco-agriculture I often encounter those who dispute these approaches. One of the frequent refrains...
Learning to Die in the Garden
I’m prone to say that the gardening year resembles nothing so much as a succession of heartbreaks, and while it’s possible that this sentiment...
A Young Girl’s Guide to Power Tools
At age 12, our daughter discovered that our front yard could be more than a place to turn cartwheels. It was also an evergreen...
A Casual Birder
For most of my adult life I’ve considered myself a birder. Some people say “bird-watcher,” but for me that term conjures up the sort...
Take a Hike? (I Would Prefer Not To)
My grandfathers’ lives had a greater degree of integrity than mine. By integrity I do not mean the suggestion of morality and righteousness frequently...
Salvaging: Boat Trailers, T.S. Eliot, and Resurrection
I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river Is a strong brown god— . . . Unhonoured, unpropitiated By...
From Dogs to Fur Babies–and Back Again
As Edward Abbey said, “When a man’s best friend is a dog, then that dog has a problem.”
Reading Seed Catalogs for Pleasure and Profit
Gardeners are a modest and sober breed, not much given to the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, or the pride...
Feeding the World from the Bottom Up
It is natural and normal, when looking at big problems, to look for big answers. Problems do not come much bigger than the subject...