all things go

Just got back from a retreat with the east coast LVC volunteers. We spent five days in a cabin on the Chesapeake Bay... It was an amazing, relaxing, challenging, revelatory, bonding time, and I loved it.

One reason -- We got to see this every night:


Getting back into city life was really tough today, for a number of reasons. The car exhaust seemed much more noticeable as I breathed during my bike commute; bizarre interactions with people on the street; multiple injuries on-the-job; forgetting about work commitments and bringing a PB&J sandwich as my only food for an 11-hour shift; being in East Baltimore again and feeling anxious and unsafe, then hating that I feel that way...

There were moments of grace, too. My awesome, supportive, goofy bosses; quiet moments in the office, when I feel okay just sitting for a minute; dang that PB&J was good; Lots of TEA; wise and hilarious comments from some 13-year-olds; hopping fences with 86-year-old Ms. Rosetta because she was locked out of her house and we had to break in through the back door; vegan chicken nuggets & Old Bay fries lovingly prepared by my housemate; and, Sufjan.



This video is from Sufjan's performance at Calvin College's festival of faith and music in 2007. I was able to see this live, but I stumbled across this video today, and it was really nice to remember that time in my life and how moving and important this song is to me.

Also, garden update:

sprouts! (winter rye and hairy vetch, great cover crops/green manure... They'll keep the soil from eroding over the winter, and will be a valuable nitrogen source in the spring, when I'll cut them into the soil.)

There is solidarity in this soil

One of my favorite things about living in Baltimore this year has been seeing the transformation our backyard has taken from this

to this

to this


in less than two months!

It's been a labor of love so far, mostly because of a little thing called heavy metal contamination (not as cool as it sounds... But at least Metallica is not involved). As I was dreaming about and planning my organic veggie and herb garden, I got to know some other Baltimore gardeners who strongly advised me to get the soil tested for lead and other heavy metals, because many Baltimore yards have toxic levels of these nasty things. So, I did. Today I got the letter from the lab, saying that we're in the clear! Everything looked great.

To celebrate, I went out and scattered some winter rye and hairy vetch seeds as a green mulch -- They'll help keep the soil from eroding over winter, and in the spring I can cut them in and they'll add healthy levels of nitrogen to the soil.

I had an interesting realization while I was planting, though. At first, while I raked the yard and began scattering the seeds, I had my iPod on. I was listening to songs about urban gardening (yes they exist), trying to be inspired, but as I went along, I realized that I could feel the autumn breeze on my skin, feel the warmth of the afternoon sun on my face, but I couldn't hear the sound of the seeds falling to the ground out of my hand, or the rustling of the leaves on the trees around me. I was "connecting myself with the earth" by planting seeds, but I wasn't connected completely. So I unplugged, and I listened. And I found nature, wildness, in the inner city. I heard those seeds hit the soft ground, I heard the black birds caw and the sparrows chirp, I heard the rake as I gently scraped it across my freshly scattered seeds. I heard the voices of my neighbors; I heard life. It was beautiful.

Currently, my backyard looks like this: