● Container Garden Planter

A Tale of the city

Every spring I think about having a container garden. Living in an urban setting has its limitations. If there is no yard, what do you do? I dream of a beautiful backyard garden. I envy people who have gardens and are good at it. They nurture their plants with good dirt, water, weeding and yes, love. They are simply good at coaxing the earth to share its bounty of fruits, vegetables, flowers and herbs that we use to sustain life.

Can I have a fresh red tomato? You know – a good, juicy, fresh one? Or a tasty pepper to add a touch of spice to a pot of greens?

Giving props

I admire anyone’s ability to grow an overflowing garden. Somehow it represents a notion of self-sufficiency that I truly believe in and live by.

Another quality I love about gardeners is the wisdom they acquire looking after their plants. I’d trade it for a college education. It is an accumulating wisdom that builds even when faith and work are not rewarded. There is an unwavering anticipation that next year will be better.

There is hope always that next year will be easier because lessons, ascended from blood, sweat, and tears, will not be forgotten. They will serve alongside this year’s new wisdom as next year’s guide. Once you stop crying, you will see the serenity in that. The earth has a sense of humor. She’s just playing with us.

How I became an urban garden warrior

One year, out of a few, I thought that I would grow my own tomatoes and peppers.

Well, I figured out that I can build an elevated container garden on my patio. I wouldn’t have to bend down to tend my garden and I could save most of the fruits of my labor from urban critters.

I had wood left from a previous project that I could use. This would be a good temporary solution just right for urban life.

At the time, I intended that the planter would last just for the summer.

Growth of the container garden

It was still a little cold for planting. So I sorted the wood for the planter, got some dirt and seeds, checked the almanac and waited. On the cusp of springtime, the last winter snow and frost finally melted away. Then, I cultivated waited for the sun and water to transform the seeds into seedlings.

Do you have the same memory of events?

O.k. I am not playing! I made a critter hutch to keep squirrels, birds, and rats from emptying the garden faster than I could.

Gardener’s lament

Have you had this experience? After watching a tomato grow over a few weeks you find a mystery. On the very day that you contemplate harvesting said tomato for a celebratory feast it wasn’t there. You discover that a clever critter snatched your juicy tomato from your garden literally seconds before you could.

You’ve seen her before – confidently, fearlessly squatting in your space. I saw her tail fluttering with pleasure as she devoured my – correct that – her bounty. Funny now, perhaps? Not funny, then.

I thought it would be different for me! Thus, spoke Zarathustra.

Enter the critter hutch

It worked until it didn’t. After a lot of sun and rain, the plants grew taller. I had to make a bigger hutch!

The container garden grew with a bigger critter hutch, pot shelves, and lattice wall. Mother Earth was certainly amused. I think the joke was on me.

Planting is grounding

I got a few grown tomatoes and peppers. They were satisfying in the sense that I grew them. My mouth actually watered in anticipation of eating them in a tasty salad. The vegetables had a natural smell and earthy taste that helped recycle my soul. For the moment, I shook off the noise of an urban existence to find peace and succor in that food… for a handful of summers.

I “endured” those small harvests.

I enjoyed the food. Of course, a few of those treats were shared involuntarily with the critters. They were the smart ones!

🍅 Shirley J