A Garden Asleep

It is not lush anymore; hardly pretty, even. It seems like everything left is straw and yellowing leaves. I enter nonetheless.

Thursday, 31 October

Today, I need to dedicate more time to work, so this early afternoon stroll should be short. Yet I already know this decision will only make the walk longer. I enjoy contradicting myself. On my way home, I pass a community garden—a place that’s a beauty in summer but now looks sad and abandoned.

I’ve never visited a vegetable garden after harvest before. Experiencing that will be new, and it’s just a few steps away. You can see why my walks are rarely short.

At first glance, there isn’t much to see. Some gardeners, however, haven’t collected all the fruits of their labor. Green kale leaves stand like miniature trees, forming intricate patterns when viewed from above. Several red-stemmed rhubarb plants have been left behind. And how lovely the Brussels sprouts are! I didn’t even know how the plant looked, if you can believe that. Many beds are neatly covered with dry leaves, and oh—there are some onions in one bed.

“Can I help you?” a woman asks.

“Is this your garden patch? I apologize for intruding; I was just admiring everything here—so many beds, some with little greenhouses. It must be a lot of work!”

“It’s not too demanding,” she replies. “In spring, yes, there’s plenty to do. And if summer’s dry, you have to come every second day to water everything. Then, of course, harvesting in autumn. I just came for my last harvest of the season. It takes some work, don’t get me wrong. Last year, I tried with the garden soil, and everything was so small. This year, I bought proper beds and good soil. It’s much better now. If you live nearby, you can always apply for a patch.”

“My husband and I have considered it, but we already have so many hobbies. Sometimes I just like to come here, take a stroll, and admire. I have a small YouTube channel, so I film a bit, hoping to make a story one day. I hope it’s okay I was filming your garden.”

“Of course, that’s fine! Film as much as you want. But I recommend trying it yourself.”

“I’m afraid if we get a patch, we’ll go into a frenzy, buying all sorts of garden equipment—things we need and things we don’t.”

“Oh, that will happen for sure. It happened to all of us!”

“Thank you so much for the chat. I’ll leave you to your work. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“No worries. Have a nice day, and I hope to see you around.”

These moments make me glad—talking with a neighbor, sharing experiences of life in the same area. It’s one of those little gems that will go on my list of five good things that happened today.

Continuing my walk among the beds, I come across a beautiful bird feeder by the fence. For a while, I listen to the rustling of the dry sunflower leaves. At the back of the garden, there’s a white table with four white metal chairs leaning against it. They won’t be occupied until spring. There are even a few last flowers here and there, too stubborn to surrender to sleep.

I had to enter this garden to realize it’s not sad; it’s asleep. And it’s still beautiful.

Here is the whole sketching process if you need company while doing your own creative work.