For the longest time I had a small garden. They consisted mainly of containers with the exception of a small raised bed in a postage stamp sized backyard. Even though I worked in the industry (horticulture), the pay didn’t necessarily allow me to splurge on a rental with sunny land to grow. There was one season, I found a plot to rent for free and farmed that 1/2 acre and sold at the local farmer’s market. For many years than not, I was confined to containers.
Plants live a semi-tortured life in containers. Containers are great even cute but not best vessel for some plants to live to their full potential. When one doesn’t water a fully grown plant in a container, they shrivel. That pretty tomato can be looking sad in a moment’s notice. A heat wave could sweep through which often does in our dry Northern California climate. The sun will bake the sides of those black containers, I can’t imagine how the roots feel. Terracotta? Those porous things exude more water through their pores than Ham from Sandlot on a summer day. The roots can only grow so deep until they want to burst out from the pot which I’ve no doubt seen. Either splitting out the sides like the first stretch in the morning or driving a root through that tiny drainage hole to whatever soil lies beneath them. Though some plants do well in containers and may actually prefer it, most don’t like it and can often succumb to diseases from constant watering and stress.
But! But! Please don’t let my details of container plants worst moments deter you. It’s better than nothing and they kept my interest in plants going through what seemed like constant moving. After a lease ran its course, they were often loaded into the back of a truck and taken to the next home. Maybe this home would be where they will be planted in soil. Real soil, not that mix in a bag bought at the store. The stuff with sticks and stones and a biome still not fully understood. Sadly. that often that wasn’t the case, they stayed in their containers. Until now, until this beautiful dirt lot before me was welcome into my life through my partner. She had bought a house in Sonoma County and it’s where I found my family, our home, and as the cliche goes, I’ve let my roots sink in.
Not only did I let my metaphorical roots sink in but it was time to set those plants free. Amongst the years of carrying containers I often wished, prayed to the plant gods that a visitor would find my small garden. A visitor in the form of plant that I didn’t sow or grow. One that appeared through a bird’s scat. One that was carried through the wind on a breezy day. One that showed up for just no good reason.
To me this visitor would be a welcome surprise. Oh wow, something new! A message from the wild. All without lifting a finger. These plants some may consider common (or even a weed) weren’t so common in my traveling container garden. They’re taken for granted by the land rich and sprayed with chemicals to go away. Throwing away the opportunity to study it. Admire its beautiful flower with folklore names like Scarlet Pimpernel. The ability to velcro to your clothes as cleavers does. Purslane, a leaf so succulent and featured in the fanciest of restaurants. Don’t get me started on the medicinal properties of these plants.
To this day, I always leave special places for these visitors to do their thing and shout their song. One walking in our garden might point out these plants that litter the pathways like volunteer onions or bushy dandelions. Cleavers growing up a back fence or wild strawberries nesting alongside a raised bed. Have you ever had a to tear out a volunteer sunflower because it wasn’t in a good spot? Let me tell you, it’s heartbreaking. But with that torn out sunflower, there are several others growing where they will. Visiting spots in the garden that I never intended them to. A beautiful process playing out before my eyes.
dirt and diy 
