Garden Lessons
I think everyone should be a gardener, if only to tend a few pots in the window sill. Caring for plants is a way of caring for the whole planet. What we learn by tending a few species of nature’s flora helps us to become kinder to ourselves and all living things. Sometimes, when I go outside to offer my morning prayers, I ask our garden what it wants me to learn that day.
Today, I listen to the ‘forest’ of Rocky Mountain bee plant, Cleomella serrulata, an annual wildflower native to western and central North America. The flowers in our garden rise five feet, towering over our mixed planting of herbs and veggies. The bee plants look like a marching band composed of giants wearing fuzzy lavender-pink hats. Their size belie the pinhead-sized seeds from which they grow. Various species of bees seem to go crazy when they discover this little purple patch of heaven—hence the common name.
Cleomella serrulata is an important cultural plant for many western indigenous tribes. The young, tender shoots and leaves are good sources of vitamin A and calcium. In the past, they were used as a food source or medicinally as teas for fevers and other ailments. The seeds were ground and used to make gruel or bread. The Diné (Navajo) still use the plant as a source of yellow-green dye for their beautiful wool rugs and blankets. Many pueblo tribes use a concentrated form of dye, made from boiling the plant into a thick black resin, to paint designs on pottery or for decorating their baskets.
In traditional Native American and frontier medicine, an infusion of the plant is used to treat stomach troubles and fevers, and poultices made from it can be used on the eyes. The Tewa and other southwest tribes often included bee plant as a ‘fourth sister,’ a companion plant, in the Three Sisters agriculture system (corn, beans, and squash) because it attracts bees to help pollinate the beans and squash.
Whew! That’s a lot of uses for a plant that most people only grow because it is beautiful. We grow it for its beauty—but mostly to support pollinators. The plant attracts an astounding variety of pollinators: flies, bees, butterflies, hummingbirds—and lately I’ve noticed goldfinches harvesting some of those tiny seeds for a snack. Think about this diverse community inhabiting the same plant at the same time—without seeming to be bothered by each other. I wonder when humans will do the same thing on this shared planet.
So, back to gardening. I think this should be a skill taught as a required part of our educational system. Perhaps if we learned early in life to meet and work together in a shared garden, we would share the planet with equal harmony. But it takes practice to grow something beautiful. Beloved Buddhist teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, referring to the inner garden that mirrors the outer, expressed it this way:
Inside every one of us is a garden, and every practitioner has to go back to their garden and take care of it. Maybe in the past, you left it untended for a long time. You should know exactly what is going on in your own garden, and try to put everything in order. Restore the beauty; restore the harmony in your garden. If it is well tended, many people [beings] will enjoy your garden.