As a studio-apartment gardener with no car, I’ve done my time carrying green things home on buses over the years. People love plants, and I’ve had my share of smiles  …

This Fall I had a nasty surprise. I hadn’t suspected my roof was leaking, but it turned out to be so deteriorated that there was no choice: I had to  …

I think these weeds stowed away in the horse manure,” I say, pointing at some new squatters in our garden, tucked up under the base of the red Russian kale.  …

Emily Dickinson published almost no poems in her lifetime. She became more and more reclusive as the years passed, eventually seeing almost no one other than members of her family.  …

I was talking to a friend about coping with pandemic stress. He suggested I try gardening. I paused. In general, you see, I try not to think about plants.  …

Find an open spot of ground. If one does not exist, use shovel, repurposed polaski, and a pair of heavy gloves to tear out one of the myriad of sand sages.  …

The year I turned 12, I met a girl in art class. Her name was Meagan, and she approached me at the pencil sharpener. She was a bit hyper, stood  …

The contents inside the large and soggy cardboard box are unimpressive when you peel away the plastic coverings: tightly-stacked, plastic tie-bound bundles of 10 sharp, green, thorny sticks, each stick  …

Jim and I had been dating for two and a half years. But I was 19—and my mom was dead set against our engagement. “No,” she declared as soon as  …

In progress for 20 years, my garden is a place I never tire of. Knowing that it stays on course growing steadily, regardless of life‘s events, supplies me with a  …