The Gardener

The spiritual hero|ine #6

I recently moved from the city to the country, from a small suburban block in Sydney to four acres outside Armidale, a town in regional New South Wales. The town sits at the top of the New England tablelands. As we drove up the hill on our final trip from Sydney to our new home, I turned to my beautiful wife and said: “from now on, I am a man of the earth.”

We killed ourselves laughing. I have always called myself a “black thumb” gardener. I like to destroy things but when it comes to planting, tending, weeding, nurturing and harvesting, I am a total disaster.

At least until now. We’ve both been somewhat surprised by what has happened in the first five months of our new life. I have taken to caring for our chickens. I have a greenhouse that grows tomatoes, basil and zucchini. I have learnt to use a chainsaw. I have even … gasp … mown the lawn a few times.

Keeping a garden is quite a challenge for someone like me. The constant process of weeding, feeding, planting, pruning and harvesting …