I recently experienced a beautiful day in a friend's native plant garden, an attempt to restore a riparian habitat in a suburban, canyon setting. I volunteered as a docent during the Theodore Payne Native Plant Garden Tour. I was rewarded for my effort in so many ways.

I gained a gift by simply being in a small area of nature for 8 hours and watching the day progress. I witnessed the coming and going of birds, small mammals, and lizards. I spied on a hawk courtship, spotted a flicker, and charted a woodpecker's travels through favorite trees. I delighted in the aroma of old growth live oak  and redwood, the sweetness of everlasting, and the familiar pungency of sun drenched white sage. I felt the temperature changes as the sun moved across the sky, creating ever changing dapples of cool shade and warm sun. I enjoyed the resilient vitality of the young meadow plants.

Several hundred people attended the tour site over the course of the day. Each brought their attention and interest, a conversation, a story. Teachers, artists, bookkeepers, scientists, horticulturists, and children, all nature enthusiasts, roamed through the garden. Each offered the hope that together we could heal some of the damage done to our earth, to give back as we enjoyed each other and the unfolding of the day.

— January Nordman

A pair of ravens graced us by taking up residence in the church belfry in mid-February. They scoped out our little corner habitat, then proceeded to roust the pigeons from the belfry. Feathers flew, and so did the pigeons. Next came a 3-week period of nest building. Half the twigs in Pasadena must have been brought in, examined, then thrown, rejected, to litter the church steps. Finally, their edifice complete, they set about the business of home and family.
Rev. Tera spied 4 blue-green eggs in the nest in early March. Our garden web of life expands beautifully.

You can see the nest from the church steps on Del Mar. Look up to the right-hand side of the belfry. The nest is visible in the uppermost niche.  Please view them from afar only.

Our other big garden news is the arrival and planting of fruit trees. TreePeople granted us the following trees:

• 2 apples
• 2 tangerines
• 2 Eureka lemons
• 1 Meyer lemon
• 1 fig
• 1 pomegranate

Thanks to Steve at TreePeople, and Therese, Judith, Mimi, and all the volunteers who are working on planting the trees!

— January Nordman

2013 proved a momentus year for Throop Learning Garden. Our planning and hard work culminated in a beautiful, productive oasis. The garden continues to be a place of habitat renewal, community building, and possibility in an evolving urban environment.

Notable events and achievements for 2013 include:

• January — National Day of Service brought 42 volunteers together for a lawn conversion.
• April — The Pasadena Earth & Arts Festival bestowed Throop Church and NELA Transition an award for Urban Nature for the Throop Learning Garden.

We hosted many well attended workshops. Some were short  talks on Sundays covering an array of garden topics. More formal workshops included:

• Lenore & Ginko’s Soap Making Workshop
• Laura Henne’s Worm Compost Workshop
• Jim Bledsoe’s Hypertufa Workshop
• Dr. Jim Adam’s Native Healing Plants Workshop
• Steve Hofvendahl’s Fruit Tree Pruning Workshop
• Just Doing Fun Stuff Holiday Party

We also began Michael’s Wednesday garden workdays, weekly meditation on Sunday mornings, and installed several water features.

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”
 
Autumn is the time for gratitude, a time to slow one’s pace and savor what has transpired.
 
We enjoyed good yields that were shared by our neighbors. We worked hard on many projects and rooted friendships as we grew community. We joined in collaboration to “just do stuff” with a wider community. We even found time to sit in quiet meditation.
 
Now is the time to consider a pause in activity to fully take in what we’ve accomplished together. Now is the time to consider what seeds we may sow in the future.
 
I am so grateful for all the energies people have brought to the garden. I am so grateful that others are dreaming gardens for other locations. And what a joy that we are all opening to new skills, ideas, and possibilities. Most of all I am so grateful that we have a shared journey that continues to unfold, one slow step at a time.

We spend so much of our lives distracted.

What we desire. What we must do. How we can solve this or that. All thoughts lead us away from where our lives are actually lived: the here and the now.

This plays out in the garden as well. To counter this distraction and be fully present in our lives, especially in the garden, we must slow down and observe.

Observation takes us out of personal drama and anchors us in the reality of the natural world around us. We gain understanding and insight through observing what is right in front of us. Visual and olfactory acuity, pattern recognition, and watching developments over time, all expand as we observe. Sequences of planting, growing, and harvesting become apparent in their subtle progression, through observation.

How can one observe? Try this the next time you are in a natural setting:

Sit quietly for a few minutes with your eyes closed. Let thoughts arise, but not linger. Take a deep breath, and open your eyes as you exhale.

What do you see? Are the plants around you green and vibrant, or brown and withered?
What shape and color are the leaves? Do you notice other life on the plants: insects, fungus?

How does the plant smell? If appropriate, touch the plant to see how it feels. Is it soft, stiff, scratchy? What do you hear and feel? Is the sun warm on your back? Is the breeze cool?

Now address the plants around you. Listen for a response. Breathe deeply several more times.

Then, honor the plants. Thank them for their beauty and for allowing you to experience them fully.

You will be surprised how much you can learn simply by paying attention. You will also be amazed at what rich experiences open up to you, through the act of observation.

— January Nordman

We were excited that our plants were producing so much, and were laden with nearly ripe fruit. We were truly baffled when, expecting huge harvests of apples, cucumbers, and tomatoes, we arrived at the garden to find our plants stripped bare. Could it be animal marauders? Some mysterious wasting? Or human scavengers who cleaned us out?
 
We investigated the clues. We quickly ruled out animals, as there was no scat, footprints, or breakage of limbs or vines associated with animal pillage. We saw no signs of wasting or dropped fruit. We decided that humans had perpetrated the harvest, as our outside buckets disappeared along with the produce.
 
This precipitated a long conversation about the nature of the garden. Some were outraged that someone would take everything. Others were fine with it, as long as the people were hungry and would use the food. Still others were anxious to ensure that produce would be shared in the future.

This precipitated a long conversation about the nature of the garden. Some were outraged that someone would take everything. Others were fine with it, as long as the people were hungry and would use the food. Still others were anxious to ensure that produce would be shared in the future.

The reality is that the Throop Learning Garden is an urban garden situated at a busy intersection with an active bus stop. We assumed from the beginning that people from the street would pick the produce from the garden. In fact, we encouraged the neighbors to come and pick. What took us by surprise was the absolute stripping of the harvest, so that nothing was left for us or others.  But does this mean our labors have been for naught? Or is this a sign of success, that food is going to the hungry who need it? We may never know for sure.  But our work continues, as does the conversation.

Since then, a sign has been posted, asking that people pick only a little, leaving food for others. So far, it seems to be working.
 
The other big surprise was the utter delight we shared at the August 24th Hypertufa Workshop with Jim Bledsoe. We enjoyed a good turnout.

Jim gave a great presentation about working with hypertufa. We explored mixtures and different types of molding techniques. All the participants went home with several portable projects, besides experiencing the construction of two large earth molded projects. We ended with a shared potluck lunch that allowed everybody a chance for conversation and to get to know each other better.

— January Nordman

Every so often one finds great inspiration from the smallest of events. Today, I came across two; a years old magazine and a website I did not know. Both gave me pause, but then spurred me to think.

First, I stumbled over a Tricycle magazine from 2009 as I cleaned my studio. I happened to open the magazine to “Out of the Skeleton Garden: On things that go flap in the night” by my favorite garden author, Wendy Johnson. In it she rejoiced that we have bats in the world, for pest control, pollination, and fertilizer. She eloquently described the important niche bats inhabit, and how each small bat action influences the well being of a myriad of plants, animals, and people around them. This led me to think of Throop Learning Garden, and the joy of seeing swooping bats at dusk. We are so fortunate to have them as denizens of our extended community.

The second happenstance involved a small UK website: myclimatechangegarden.com.
The very short article entitled “How Your Garden Can Help Beat Climate Change” offered four areas where urban gardens make a difference:

• [Gardens] help control urban temperatures, mitigating the effects of extreme heat or cold.
  

• They help prevent flooding by absorbing rainwater that would otherwise overload a drainage system.
  

• They have effectively become some of Britain’s best nature reserves, supporting a range of wildlife including birds, mammals, and invertebrates.
  

• They support human health by easing stress and providing physical exercise.

I would add a number of other benefits including: building community, providing food, and promoting a deeper sense of interbeing.
 
Both inspirations dovetail into our activities at Throop Learning Garden. We are in the process of setting up workshops for the fall/winter season. One of our key topics is attracting bats to gardens. This also ties in with our goal of promoting gardening across the city. Several regular gardeners are joining with other folks to form gardens for the Arroyo Food Co-op and a Woodbury neighborhood group. Each action draws us into a larger, interconnected web of life. Each small step brings us closer to healing ourselves and our environment.

— January Nordman