Men Bonding in Gardens
“We have three projects today,” I started the morning standing in a frosty field with 3 other men. “First, divide that 75 foot row of Crinum ‘Lolita.’ Second, cut down a water oak for firewood and third, move that 500 pound concrete basin onto the trailer. It goes to a client next week.”
Our new guy started today, on the coldest day of the year. Moving concrete and digging bulbs in red clay will tell us how he works. And how he fits. Fitting in, bonding, means a lot for a tight, small crew that does physical work.
After crinum dividing training and doing about 15 feet of digging, the new guy said, “They’re like little aliens. Or Rastafarians.” Then went on, “I’ve been listening to this sort of rasta music, Sun Araw and The Congos.” I made video of him holding a loft the biggest bulb of the day. (FYI, if you live a place colder than USDA Zone7, don’t divide till spring.)
Engaging him, we all talked a bit about music. Then when we started planting bulbs back in the ground, he said, “You know if we planted them further apart, we wouldn’t have to do this again.”
I replied, “Yeah but you realize that’s what we do here? We dig things up, then we bury them again.”
Cole chimed in with a hopeful, sales-man like voice, “Until someone buys the bulbs then they’ll bury them at their house!”
By lunch, we were way ahead of schedule. We’d done not just 75 but 150 feet of bulbs.
We ate on the front porch of the office enjoying the winter sunshine. The dog basked, belly up. Kitty curled on somebody’s discarded jacket. The donkey brayed for a cracker. I overheard new guy talking about cool stuff he’d put into his sandwhich, then he said, “Did y’all put that old window in there? That’s cool.” Sam responded, “We built the entire building, so yeah, we put the window in. Wanna see the rest of the barn?”
After lunch, I ran the chainsaw into the base of a 40 foot tall water oak. Focused on the chain and with saw roaring I need spotters. The guys scan for signs of trouble. I look up and notice the new guy, followed Cole’s example, running his gaze from tree top to me, tracking changes for my safety.
Half an hour later, he rolled logs with an easy kick and Cole said something about leg strength and balance. New guy responded, “I run. Every-morning. I ran track even back in high school. This is easy except I think I have stickers in my socks” Everyone felt them then. We leaned on each other to pull briars out of our socks.
After the trailer was loaded, then unloaded at the wood pile, we went for the last project of the day.
We’d earth-formed this concrete bowl last week and unearthed just yesterday. “What is it?” new guy asked. I explain how it fits into a water lily fountain, how bog plants will grow in it while water cascades through the foliage. The four of us leaned in, lifted the 500 pound thing, walked it onto the trailer and nestled it in place.
We all stood up straight, stretched, locked eyes. “She’ll ride fine there.” New guy replied, “Yeah. She looks cozy.”
Some guys bond playing sports, Ted Lasso style. They can be vulnerable then they get a ra-ra cheering, back-slapping moment. Our garden team has mini-Lasso-moments like watching a once-majestic tree lurch, then crash, and reverberate through the ground.
The new guy got it; gardeners bond by embracing the nitty gritty, talking about music or food during the rote work. At the same time, we dream of the big picture, the warm days. One day in July, we’ll take off our boots and wade barefoot into a dark fountain to prune bog plants that overflow and cascade out of our concrete bowl.
My new book explores how friendships develop while gardening. As we care for our plants, we cultivate ourselves.
A young woman wrote on Instagram this week to say, “it’s like dopamine gardening. It opened my mind to how plants can carry stigmas or even be status symbols just like the clothes we wear.”
It’s not a book about gardens. It’s a book about gardeners.
Or Amazon will print a copy where ever you live and mail it too you. I’m shocked to know that at least one bored soul in England, Spain, Japan, Singapore and Australia have ordered a copy.
I love the story but also the universality of what it means to part of of a small, efficient team. I have worked in kitchens and laboratories and experienced this when someone is a “good fit”. It can make work drudgery or it can make work satisfying at the end of the end of the day.
Nice to find a fellow farmer here!