*** This article was written by Angela Mason Foster, Beaufort County Extension Master Gardener Volunteer***

Memories Rooted in the Garden

Father’s Day has a way of bringing certain memories back into sharper focus. For me, many of those memories are rooted in the garden.

Growing up in Washington, I remember my dad always piddling around with plants. He always had a garden of some sort, and there was usually something outside that needed his attention. A row needed weeding. A plant needed watering. Something was ready to pick. Something else had not done well, and that was worth noticing too.

At the time, I did not realize how much I was learning. I just knew that gardening was part of the rhythm of home. It was something that happened in the background of ordinary days. There were vegetables on the table because someone had planted them. There were flowers blooming because someone had cared for them. There were tools by the door, hoses stretched across the yard, and conversations that happened while hands were busy.

Now, so much of my own gardening is built on those early memories: warm soil, tomato vines, fresh vegetables, and the steady patience of watching something grow. My father may not have set out to teach formal lessons in horticulture, but gardens have a way of teaching whether we are paying attention or not.

Learning to Observe

One of the most useful lessons from those old gardens is that good gardeners observe more than they interfere. Before reaching for fertilizer, pesticide, or a shovel, it helps to look closely. Is the plant wilting because the soil is dry, or because the roots are stressed? Are insects truly damaging the plant, or are they simply present? Are yellow leaves a sign of a nutrient problem, too much water, or simply age?

That kind of observation matters in eastern North Carolina, where heat, humidity, sandy soils, heavy rains, and dry spells can all affect plant health. A struggling tomato plant in July may not have the same problem as a struggling collard plant in February. The season, the weather, the soil, and the plant itself all tell part of the story.

Older gardeners often seem to develop this habit naturally. They walk through the garden and notice small changes: leaves curling, a plant leaning, soil crusting, blossoms dropping, or an insect appearing where it was not yesterday. They may not always use scientific language for what they see, but they understand that the garden is constantly communicating.

That is one of the best habits any gardener can develop. Walk the garden often. Look under leaves. Notice whether plants perk up in the morning and wilt in the afternoon. Watch where water runs after a heavy rain. Pay attention to which plants thrive and which ones struggle. Many garden problems are easier to manage when they are noticed early.

Growing Something Useful

Another lesson many of us learned from older gardeners is the value of growing something useful. A garden does not have to be large to be meaningful. A few herbs near the kitchen door, a container of cherry tomatoes, a row of peppers, or a small patch of okra can connect us to the practical side of gardening.

There is a special satisfaction in walking outside to pick something for supper. A tomato still warm from the sun, a handful of basil, a few sprigs of rosemary, or a pepper for the skillet can make a meal feel more connected to the season. Even people who do not think of themselves as “serious gardeners” often enjoy growing something they can eat.

Most summer vegetables need six to eight hours of sun each day, loose well-drained soil, consistent moisture, and mulch to help reduce weeds and conserve water. In our area, summer vegetables can grow quickly, but they also face heat stress, insects, diseases, and occasional extremes of rain or drought. The most successful gardeners are usually the ones who start with the basics: healthy soil, adequate sunlight, proper spacing, and regular attention.

Herbs are especially good for beginning gardeners. Basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano, parsley, and chives can be grown in containers or small beds. Most need good drainage and plenty of sun, and many attract pollinators when allowed to flower. Herbs are forgiving, useful, and rewarding. They also invite frequent harvesting, which keeps the gardener engaged.

The Value of Patience

Gardening also teaches patience, and that may be one of its most important lessons. Seeds do not sprout because we are impatient. Tomatoes do not ripen because we keep checking them. Shrubs do not become established overnight. A garden moves according to its own schedule.

As a child, it can be hard to understand why some things take so long. As an adult, I appreciate that gardening slows us down. It reminds us that growth is often happening even when we cannot see it. Roots are developing beneath the soil. Buds are forming before flowers open. Compost is breaking down. Soil is improving year by year.

That kind of patience is useful far beyond the garden. It teaches us to invest in things we may not enjoy immediately. It teaches us that progress can be quiet. It teaches us that care, repeated over time, matters.

Sharing the Harvest

Then there is the lesson of sharing. Anyone who grew up around gardeners knows that extra produce rarely stayed extra for long. Tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, beans, flowers, seeds, and cuttings have a way of moving from one household to another. Gardening builds community in quiet ways.

A bag of tomatoes left on a porch, a jar of fig preserves, a bouquet of zinnias, or a few rooted cuttings passed across a fence can carry more meaning than the object itself. It says, “I had enough, and I thought of you.” That simple exchange is one of the old traditions of gardening, and it is worth keeping.

That is especially true of pass-along plants. Many Southern gardens are filled with plants that came from someone else: a parent’s favorite shrub, a neighbor’s fig tree, a friend’s daylily, a grandmother’s iris. These plants become living memories, reminders that gardens are made not only of soil and roots, but also of stories.

A pass-along plant can outlive the person who first shared it. Every time it blooms, it brings that person back into the garden. In this way, gardeners leave pieces of themselves behind, not as monuments, but as living things.

Learning from Failure

Of course, gardening also teaches humility. Seeds fail. Rabbits help themselves. Tomatoes split after heavy rain. Squash vine borers arrive just when the plants look their best. A row that looked promising in May may look pitiful by July. A plant we were sure would thrive may decide otherwise.

A gardener learns quickly that control is limited. We can prepare the soil, choose the right plant for the right place, water wisely, mulch carefully, and watch for pests, but nature still has a vote.

That lesson can be frustrating, but it can also be freeing. Not every failure is a personal failure. Sometimes the weather was wrong. Sometimes the plant was wrong for the site. Sometimes pests arrived despite our best efforts. Sometimes we simply learn what not to do next year.

My father’s garden, like every garden, had successes and disappointments. That may be part of what made it real. A perfect garden would not have taught nearly as much. The imperfect garden taught resilience. It taught experimentation. It taught the value of trying again.

Respecting the Seasons

Gardening also teaches us to live with the seasons. Each time of year has its own work and its own gifts. Spring brings hope and planting. Summer brings abundance and heat. Fall brings cleanup, harvest, and preparation. Winter brings rest, planning, and the chance to see the structure of the landscape more clearly.

In eastern North Carolina, the growing season is generous, but it is not effortless. Summer can be hard on plants and gardeners alike. Heat, humidity, insects, fungal diseases, and storms all shape what we can grow and how we care for it. A wise gardener learns not to fight the season too much. Instead, we learn to work with it.

That might mean planting heat-tolerant annuals instead of trying to force cool-season flowers to keep going. It might mean mulching heavily before July. It might mean accepting that some vegetables have a season and then need to give way to something else. It might mean resting in the shade during the hottest part of the day and returning to the garden in the morning or evening.

The Quiet Lessons That Last

Perhaps that is why gardening memories stay with us. My father’s garden was not just a place where plants grew. It was a place where I learned to notice, to wait, to try again, and to appreciate the ordinary abundance of a well-tended patch of ground.

The lessons were not delivered as lectures. They came through repetition. They came through watching. They came through small tasks that probably seemed ordinary at the time: pulling weeds, picking vegetables, noticing what had bloomed, checking what needed water, and seeing what had changed since yesterday.

This Father’s Day, I find myself grateful for those memories and for the quiet lessons that came with them. The garden gave my father something to tend, and in ways I understand more fully now, it gave me something too.

It gave me roots.

Questions and Local Gardening Help

If you have questions about your home garden or landscape, contact Gene Fox, Consumer Horticulture Agent with the North Carolina Cooperative Extension Service, at gene_fox@ncsu.edu or (252) 946-0111. Beaufort County Master Gardeners are also available through Greenline on Mondays and Wednesdays from 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. Be sure to follow the Beaufort County Master Gardeners on Facebook for additional gardening resources. Suggestions for future column topics are always welcome.