Articles by Jules Ivan Garay

The Aloha Spirit of Hawaii

The Aloha Spirit of Hawaii

"Is it real? Can I touch it?" my kindergarten students eagerly asked, their eyes wide with curiosity. I had just returned from Maui, clutching a fragrant lei that I had  
Prospector’s Patch

Prospector’s Patch

Gardening is about patience. You learn to live by the seasons, marking time by sunrises and sunsets until the next hard rain. But sometimes, you strike gold. You find that  
Seeds of Second Chances

Seeds of Second Chances

You might not think of garden-tending as one of the first waking thoughts for a prisoner. But Adam isn't your average prisoner. From 6:30 a.m., when the doors crack open  
Imbibing with Butterflies

Imbibing with Butterflies

I heard them before I saw her—my mother’s determined size-five footsteps slapping across the kitchen linoleum. I already knew she’d be wearing her red-and-white kerchief, tied with military precision. She  
Growing Love

Growing Love

“How will you grow a garden and take care of two little children?” my mother asked, just days before I gave birth to my second child. It was a fair  
Seeds of Silliness

Seeds of Silliness

My birdbath is like the hot new spa in town. Every day, it's packed with birds splashing, chirping, and fluffing their feathers in what can only be described as "avian  
A Gardener’s Delight

A Gardener’s Delight

They say people and their dogs tend to resemble each other, sharing not just looks but quirky traits and habits, too. A stroll through the dog park often makes you  
Dance of the Squash Bees

Dance of the Squash Bees

Nearly every plant in the garden reveals evidence of bees. Honeybees, long-horned bees, and cranky wasps walk across the faces of sunflowers. Semicircle-shaped holes in leaves indicate that a leafcutter  
The One-Minute Gardener

The One-Minute Gardener

One fine morning, I was on a mission, banana peel in hand, ready to toss it into the compost box. Simple enough, right? But as fate would have it, a  
Buckshot and Runner Beans

Buckshot and Runner Beans

Early every Spring, Dad would drive my Uncle Clarence to the Red Mile racetrack to collect a trunkload of manure. Clarence didn’t live out in the country. He was smack