GARDEN ON A QR CODE

Change is Good
Every morning for the past ten years or so, I have walked across a pedestrian plaza bordered by beautiful flower gardens. Flowerbeds filled with an amazing array of floral delights. Bright orange and yellow marigolds, daisies of every variety, peonies, fancy lilies of white and bright red, fuschias, asters, roses and purple flowers I can’t even name. My walk across the plaza was a kind of morning meditation, a time of contemplation and experiencing wholeness.
And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who enjoyed the beauty of the flowerbeds. Hummingbirds, flew from blossom to bloom enjoying the sweet flower nectar every bit as much as I enjoyed the sweet flower view. Year after year they returned to the same flowers seeking nourishment after long flights of migration.
And then…
New gardeners and landscapers transformed the beautiful flower garden into an edible garden. Full of kale and broccoli, strawberries, and squash, tomatoes, and even stalks of corn like the fields of Nebraska. A cornucopia of food is now available to anyone who walks by. It’s a way for a community to make a statement about who they are and their place in the world. We are providers. We are making a difference in the world.
The walk across has changed. I don’t linger to enjoy the colors or smell the roses (literally!) Edible gardens are purposeful, filling the world with nutrients. I eye the growth of the tomatoes as I quickly walk by and imagine who is eating the newly picked strawberries. I think about the crops that will be planted next and about the small animals that appear to be eating the lettuce leaves. An edible garden is a good thing. It raises awareness for a whole host of sustainability issues. It feeds people.
Change is good, but I miss the hummingbirds.
Every morning for the past ten years or so, I have walked across a pedestrian plaza bordered by beautiful flower gardens. Flowerbeds filled with an amazing array of floral delights. Bright orange and yellow marigolds, daisies of every variety, peonies, fancy lilies of white and bright red, fuschias, asters, roses and purple flowers I can’t even name. My walk across the plaza was a kind of morning meditation, a time of contemplation and experiencing wholeness.
And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who enjoyed the beauty of the flowerbeds. Hummingbirds, flew from blossom to bloom enjoying the sweet flower nectar every bit as much as I enjoyed the sweet flower view. Year after year they returned to the same flowers seeking nourishment after long flights of migration.
And then…
New gardeners and landscapers transformed the beautiful flower garden into an edible garden. Full of kale and broccoli, strawberries, and squash, tomatoes, and even stalks of corn like the fields of Nebraska. A cornucopia of food is now available to anyone who walks by. It’s a way for a community to make a statement about who they are and their place in the world. We are providers. We are making a difference in the world.
The walk across has changed. I don’t linger to enjoy the colors or smell the roses (literally!) Edible gardens are purposeful, filling the world with nutrients. I eye the growth of the tomatoes as I quickly walk by and imagine who is eating the newly picked strawberries. I think about the crops that will be planted next and about the small animals that appear to be eating the lettuce leaves. An edible garden is a good thing. It raises awareness for a whole host of sustainability issues. It feeds people.
Change is good, but I miss the hummingbirds.