How writing is like gardening OR Why I am not much at my desk these summer days

For someone who calls herself a writer, I am not doing much these days to make that true. The heart of the summer months are capturing my imagination and taking me away from my desk and out into the garden. This is the other domain in which I create and, I realize, in which I do many of the same things as when I am creating on a page.

As a gardener, I have ideas, map them out, then start digging and planting. If I’m committed to what I see taking shape, I water and fertilize and watch what happens day by day. Over the years, I have learned that a bit of daily weeding keeps that job manageable, so I am always pulling out this or that unwanted shoot that has no place in my plans. With some persistence and a bit of luck, the wanted plants take hold and grow into beautiful blooms that are enjoyed by me, yes, but also by others. I love nothing better than a neighbourhood walker who slows down in front of our house to appreciate the front yard. Over the years, I have grown bolder in striking up a conversation with these folks and always enjoy the sharing of gardening tales that results.

As a writer, I have ideas, sketch them out in a notebook, and then start writing. Sometimes I like what is developing and I keep writing; other times, I close the file and dispatch it to either the trash or the archives. I enjoy the writing process, but I really love the revision process — the bones of the piece are on the page so the job now is to shape it by adding to it or taking from it. Sometimes radical changes develop through revision and editing, while sometimes the original idea stands but is brought into sharper relief. When I have something I call more or less complete, I share it with a ‘first reader’ — a trusted writer-friend who will give me clear and honest feedback; the final decisions are always mine, but that other’s perspective is invaluable. When I send the finished piece out into the world and readers respond to it, my writer’s day is made.

I won’t belabour the analogy of writer/gardener, so will close by inviting you to ponder how many areas you have in your own life in which you create, in which you use your innate creativity. I like how Maya Angelou puts its: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”

And I would add: No matter where or how you use it, USE IT! The summer months are fleeting and my desk isn’t going anywhere, so if you’re looking for me-the-writer these days, come over to my garden because that is where you’ll find me.

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When we bought our house 24 years ago, it had a conventional front yard: grass, a big tree in the centre, and evergreen plantings to fill in various spaces. None of that remains today. We have transformed the front into walkways, a large flower bed with a retaining wall, boardwalks to give defining lines through the growth and many, many plants and shrubs. (I have trouble buying clothes, but I have no trouble buying plants!)

THEN

NOW
No-fuss mulch along the curb; no-mow low-growth clover with stepping stones,
then the flower bed and, beyond, false spirea going gangbusters (back left), 
a lilac that smells divine when blooming in spring (back right),  
and in the far background against the house hydrangeas in a raised bed

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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.