​I didn’t know what to write about and mentioned that fact to my dad. He asked me what the first three things I noticed at Songaia were. I started off with the way the light lands, and how it makes me wish I were a better painter so I could capture it. Then the softness of the petals on the many, many, flowers, and of course how hot and sweaty I was. My dad told me I could just write about that. I’m not particularly interested in writing about being sweaty, so that leaves the light and petals. Aaand since I haven’t written a poem in a while.

Ombré flecks of scattered pale, placid gold,
An alluring tapestry of sunlight
Draws one out despite the sultry air
All while the shadows relinquish their hold

Slowly, as the morning glow dissipates
My focus shifts to the painterly scene
A garden of flowering plants creates
Fragile petals soft as a forest stream

Swirling fragrance, seemingly from a dream
I don’t have the artistry to requite
The simple delight in a flower,
Or light, for that matter

I’m not very comfortable sharing any of my writing or art, even in kind and supportive environments. But I think keeping everything out of view only hinders improvement, and I worry people will build up the idea of my writing and expect it to be better than it is.

I’ve always loved this plant since I was little, but I didn’t know what it was called until Anita told me. It’s Bindweed. It can be hard to tell Field Bindweed (Convolvulus arvensis) and Hedge Bindweed (Calystegia sepium) apart; every time I think I can distinguish them I mess it up.

https://cals.cornell.edu/weed-science/weed-identification/bindweed-identification https://kingcounty.gov/en/legacy/services/environment/animals-and-plants/noxious-weeds/weedidentification/hedge-bindweed https://kingcounty.gov/en/legacy/services/environment/animals-and-plants/noxious-weeds/weedidentification/field-bindweed.aspx

​I don’t know what I’m talking about, but the above sources seem ok. It is a shame that these choke out other plants.

​I’ve only spent two weeks working in the garden, but I’ve already noticed some changes in me. Now when I look at piles of vines while out and about, I pay more attention to the shape and color of the leaves to differentiate them. Can I identify them? Not even close, but I'm paying more attention to details. I also have become a bug person (excluding spiders and earwigs). Instead of jumping after a bug flew out of my hair, I thought it was cute, so I let it hang out on my hand for a while. A day later a beetle fell out of my shoe. I really hope this is a normal garden thing and I'm not admitting to being overly buggy. I’ve also gotten a lot more tolerant of the sun and heat. We're not friends, but I no longer dramatically monologue at the sun and lament the heat. I think I might start it up again though, dramatic monologues are quite fun.

We break down one area of the garden by weeding and using a broad fork to disturb the soil. The finished compost is layered on top of the bed, spilling into the crevices that the fork creates. We create furrows alongside the drip irrigation lines, filling them with seeds and lightly covering them. A generous spray of water and these seeds can begin to catch energy from the chemicals, water, and sunlight. The garden is full of life and not just in the soil. 
When we look beyond the soil we practice observation. Observation is a key feature of the first principle of permaculture. We feel life almost slows down at Songaia as one begins to stop and simply take a look around the garden. Lettuce, herbs, roses, dahlias, tomatoes, peas and more all interact with the diverse wildlife. Bees, hummingbirds, and ladybugs flutter between the plants spreading pollen, increasing the fertility of the plants. This biodiversity creates a healthy and balanced ecosystem, minimizing our impact on the earth and reducing waste, while creating food to nourish us. 

This allows the crops to grow big and strong, creating an abundance of beautiful crops. From these we can create a salad or cherry crisp to share at dinner with the community. This feeds not just our bodies but our souls, as we build connections to the land and each other. We share stories and knowledge between generations. ​

A sparrow pauses on the water fountain in the center of the garden. She is stopping for a drink, possibly some shade from the oppressive heat. She too feeds on seeds and grain like us. Eventually she decides that she has had enough and takes flight.


Here at Songaia a sign on the fountain invites us to ask the question “Are you in the story or in the moment?” It’s so easy to get caught up in a story in our heads. People everywhere are dealing with climate change and social collapse. People are tired. We need to stop, observe, and interact. If I had kept myself ruminating on the cycle of doom and gloom, I would not have been able to pause and enjoy this moment and appreciate the simple beauty of nature.

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