The summer began hot and early in an already dry May. The plan was to plant early since the weather was going to allow it. I've never planted in May, I usually never get my shit together until June, but that's a fairly common time to plant in the interior sub-arctic north. The long hours of sunlight mean that it's a shot and fast growing season, full of unexpected plot twists that make gardening a constant lesson. I've been gardening on a very small scale for over 10 years, but this was my first summer in the house my wife and I bought last winter. More than a sauna, an extension on the deck, stacking wood, cleaning out the gutters, cutting down dead trees... I deeply needed to get a garden going. Top. Priority. Because of the beautiful and bountiful garden that my mother so sweetly tended to every summer (with no help from us jerk kids) I think of it like this: a garden = a home.
And so it began.
After a visit to Plant Kingdom (local green house), I had acquired my entire garden, which fit in the back of my car with two dogs and several bags of manure. Everything was fresh and begging to be planted. Roots squeezed out the bottom of their plastic cups, reaching for something that wasn't quite ready yet. First things first, a home must be made by someone. And the plants weren't about to help.
Building raised beds was more expensive, difficult and fun than I thought it'd be. I had grand plans of 4 4' x 12' raised beds. There would be tall trellises where peas would grow taller than me. I could terrace some beds and use vertical space effectively! Turns out that shit is spendy and incredibly time consuming. So, I went to plan B: find extra pieces of wood and build a small raised bed garden. Learn about my land before I went over the top on my dream garden.
See, when you're backyard is 30 feet of grass and 2 acres of boreal forest, the soil won't be so great, to put it simply. Not enough nutrition for the tender type of plants, too rooty... Raised beds also give you the honey moon period of new soil that sees nary a weed. Score. The lovely neighbors found a raised bed frame made out of decking lumber
in their yard and gave it to us, it was small but it made a perfect
template for getting the garden started.
Quickly after the garden frame gift my wife and I got busy to buildin' and made one more frame (Like our neighbors we had extra deck lumber since our houses were built by the same person, convenient, yes.) and one small frame made out of whatever we had left over. Before planting our eager starts we had to line the inside of the beds with black contractor's plastic to prevent the chemicals from the treated decking lumber seeping into the soil and into the new plants. We also lined the bottom with newspaper, which will kill the grass below and decompose after a few years. We filled in the beds with a mix of organic planting soil and delicious manure; we wanted our new garden to get a special kick in the ass when they were planted. "This is a unseasonably warm May in Alaska, you have to start growing AS SOON AS YOUR ROOTS HIT THE GROUND." (That's me giving my plants a pep talk. If you only knew how much I talk to my plants.) The rush to get your garden started is a common, panic-inducing, feeling among Fairbanks residents, especially when Climate Change gifts you with a slightly longer growing season. Get to planting you, WINTER IS ALWAYS COMING.
Finally. The fun part: introducing the plants to their new homes. Tuck 'em in tight, it's gonna be a long ride. Little did these plants (or I) know how rainy this summer would turn out to be... more on that later.
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| The two main beds built and the pea trellis made from willow branches started. I've always had a day dream of a garden where I can sit inside enveloped by the plants, reading, sipping lemonade and staring at the sky. This trellis is the small start to a garden that will eventually embrace people with life. |
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| Since I couldn't afford to make as many beds as I wanted, I used the pot-on-the-deck method of gardening. After renting dry cabins for over a decade, I got pretty good at pot gardening. |
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| Transplanted rhubarb from my mother's giant rhubarb plant & yellow and red cherry tomatoes. |
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| Fox Glove on the sides and pink Impatiens in the middle. Old, handmade snowshoes in the back. Caribou antlers on the side. #Alaskanlawnorniments |
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| The tiny raised bed in the back and the finished trellis. Besides the visible plants, we sowed tatsoi ("Asian greens"), a variety of colored beets, french (?) carrots and Wando snow peas. |
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| Top two plants: pumpkins. I had NO CLUE how big those ass holes get. This needs to be re-thunk for next year. Holy shit. Bottom three plants: Yellow crooked neck squash. This was a GREAT variety, so tasty. |
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| Two plants not pictured but also in this bed: melons... long story but they hated everything. The
three plants seen here: zucchini. Which turned out to be a LOT of zucchini. |
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| The tiny bed was dedicated to sowing kale. This was a plain, not so exciting variety of kale that yielded a veritable ton of baby kale. 4-5 cuttings in all. The tiny trellis was all decoration, and no, I didn't mean for it to look like a Star Trek communicator, I'm just that much of a trekkie. |
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| So in love with this garden. It's an incredible thing to imagine, draw, create and nurture. Literally bringing dreams to life. |
There is so much hope in the early stages of gardening. So much colored imagery of mid-summer crops and fall-time preserving. Oh, if only it were that simple. But really, it's the struggle to keep things alive, healthy and producing that I find so gratifying. Hard work is good for you. And the plants.
