Your Garden Friend

08/10/2025

I am now exploring how to belong to the land we live in over on Substack. Come join me.

All The Colors of Wet In September, my family and I went camping. The Pacific Northwest has a reputation for cold rain, nine months out of the year, and that rumor is not untrue. For those who place all their hopes on sunny dry days, winter in this land is not the place for you. But for those who fi...

09/09/2025

My work in the garden is merging with my work in my storytelling. There was never meant to be a separation between who we are and the natural world. It is too easy to get lost in the inside world. If you need a break of the illusion, remember… reality is outside. Step into your natural world, no matter how small it is, and feel it on your senses. It will bring you back to yourself.

My stories are now on Substack. Please subscribe, it is free.

I joined a writing group in the spring, hoping to find help creating my memoir about bicycling across the United States.

26/06/2025

When I get overwhelmed by what I see on my screens, I remind myself to go spend time with the wild. It will bring me back to my sense of reality. Out here, life and death are not failure.

26/06/2025

Although not a PNW native, this Rose Gentian from the east coast of the USA is thriving in my native meadow. It seeded itself in two years ago with just one plant, but now fills the spaces between my native Deschampsia grasses nicely. The plants that naturalize nicely, and aren’t rude in their encroachment, are welcome to stay here. They remind me that I too am a naturalized, not native, creature and must learn not to co-opt the native land I call home.

26/06/2025

PNW native meadow year 4. It’s hard to believe this entire area was once an over-fertilized, poisoned with herbicide, manicured lawn that turned to bog in the winter. I wish I could share with you the sound of busy peace this meadow owns. Bees and birds and lizards and frogs and voles and moles and so much more all inhabit this patch of land now. By offering my sweat and stewardship, prioritizing wild diversity over estate control, I have discovered tranquility within myself and the peace that comes with belonging to, instead of ownership over, the land. Even the air and soil seems to hum a happy tune.

15/05/2025

I have found a new home for my writing. And a new nickname for my self. I am blending my work with plants with my joy in writing about this human existence. I am shedding a past I did not choose, and embracing a future I desire. My new name fits the land I have chosen to belong to, and acknowledges the ancestors I carry with me. I am Ferne. https://substack.com//note/p-163654086?r=11mgqq&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=notes-share-action

24/03/2025

My Mason Bees are hungry. I can hear them scratching to escape their mud doors. These adorable native insects are perhaps one of the most rewarding garden projects I have. Hopefully they will have enough food from the plum and forsythia in bloom now, and the pears and blueberries promising to open soon.

26/01/2025

Hazel has announced the beginning of the awakening. Every year it happens just when I feel I can take no more of the darkness. This year I am training my awareness to the local plants’ signals. The weather pays little attention to our planting calendars, but the creatures that live outdoors know what’s up by how the sun and cold feels. Every plant is in tune with the environment for their cues to change and shift. I will spend the next decades allotted to me to learn their rhythms and use their songs to tell me when to plant my food.

30/05/2024

As a steward of this new land I am learning to belong to, I spend a bit of each day, each week, each season, learning to not disturb (and to actively encourage) beneficial natives and non-harmful naturalized plants. The previous owners had a long gravel patch along the road that was obviously sprayed to keep it w**d free. Since I was unwilling to spray, (even non-synthetic-chemical methods have too large a footprint for large-scale use) and gravel is a natural seed germination environment, I decided to cultivate the gravel for a mowable/drivable parking space. I planted seed for native and naturalizing plants, but I also carefully avoid w**ding out volunteer desirables when they appear. This plantain is one of those, and was expected. Plantain loves to colonize hard compact gravelly soil. Their deep taproots feed them plenty of nutrients and moisture allowing them to grow large and healthy in difficult soils. These ones I will use to encourage topical healing, but I will save seed for planting in a less oil-saturated soil for harvesting for tea in the future. All my gratitude to the writing team that created these Plant Teaching Cards created in partnership with GRuB, Northwest Indian Treatment Center-Squaxin Island Tribe, and Seattle Indian Health Board.

23/05/2024

This combination right here sure catches the eye as you walk by. Borage, California poppy, upland cress. All wild sown from last year’s garden.

23/05/2024

GRuB, Northwest Indian Treatment Center-Squaxin Island Tribe, and Seattle Indian Health Board partnered to create travel-sized Plant Teaching Cards, A Tool for Connecting with Plants, Cultural Traditions, and Social & Emotional Skills. I bought them out of curiosity, unaware just how impactful they would be as I ventured into how to belong to the land I inhabit. It is such an honor to be included this way in learning the wisdom of this land. Today, I read about the FIREWEED that I found (and let be) in the azalea/herb bed outside our back door. “FIREWEED: My seeds fly in the wind and take root on barren ground after fires, slides, or clear cuts. I heal the land by stabilizing and enriching the soil, providing food for animals, and creating a safe space where other plants can grow.
•What actions can I take right now to heal myself?
•Is there something I can do to repair the harm I’ve caused others?
•What plants, places, and people can help me to heal my wounds and support my growth?”

**d

18/05/2024

Never underestimate the impact of texture in the garden. This trio of very contrasting leaf shapes is as eye-popping as any flower. Also, sometimes, let w**ds grow… you never know what might be your next favorite flower. All three of these volunteered in the shadiest corner of my native meadow (although only one is a native).