Salvation

In January, long shadows fall quietly across the garden, creating pools of light and dark.  Evergreen perennials, background plants for most of the year, become focal points in winter, forming islands of green.  A thick layer of brown leaves protects the soil.      

The pathway of Delaware river rock brings out the mottled gray of the tree trunks. The shape of the Japanese maple is best appreciated when the branches are bare.

Winter is the most beautiful time of year in my garden, but it takes a serious gardener to recognize that.  The gentle turn of a path, the rough texture of the bark of the oaks, the sad call of a bird -- all of these are missed when yellow and red flowers scream for attention.

It is often that way in life -- the most important things are overlooked. Invisible, unless you know enough to seek them out.

Fifteen years ago, I grew sad about the environment and stayed that way for a long time. 

I tried to help out mother nature.  I planted flowers for bees and butterflies, but my garden was too shady.  I grew berries for the birds, but there was not enough sun.  Then my hummingbird feeders were invaded by wasps and my songbird feeders were attacked by squirrels.

I came to a new understanding --  to look beyond color and fragrance.  The building blocks for a wildlife garden are insects.  Birds need meat -- insects -- and our 20 native oak trees attract 400 species of insects, high in the treetops where they cannot be seen.

Today, the environmental worry is carbon in the air, causing global warming.  And in the eco-garden, the most important feature is the most invisible.  It lies protected under the thick layer of brown leaves.  It is the soil, black and rich, full of carbon, created through ordinary organic garden practices.   

Plants feed themselves through photosynthesis and when they do, they store carbon in the soil.  Lots of it.  And the carbon will stay there unless we release it.  All we need to do is to stop disturbing the soil.

I am doing all I can to grow carbon in the soil. That means doing nothing.  No tilling.  No fertilizing.  No raking.

The soil will save us.  Author Kristin Ohlson really thinks that. She says so, in her new and hopeful book with that very title.