Growing, Giving, and the Spirit of the Earth

When the world feels uncertain - governments shutting down and headlines reminding us how big of a world we live in - it's worth reminding to turn to soil.

Liberty Hyde Bailey once wrote that "the land must be lived with, not merely lived on." To Bailey, the garden wasn't an economical factory of production; it was a moral landscape. A classroom. A covenant. In uncomfortable times, Bailey wouldn't tell us to huddle and endure, but to plant. To make the earth fruitful, even in small ways.

A seed is a quiet declaration of rebellion. It says, "tomorrow still matters." Whether planted in an acre or in a small pot, we now have participated in a cycle older and steadier than any government or program ever has been. The ancient agreement between soil and sustainer.

Bailey believed that this shared act of cultivation unites us. The food that grows from our gardens nourishes not only the body but the spirit - it becomes, in Bailey's words, "a part of the great democracy of the earth." When we plant and share, we join an ancient lineage of generosity that goes beyond the boundaries of policy.

Even now, as many face how they will feed their families, the garden offers a gentle answer. It reminds us that the act of growing food can also be an act of hope and simple gestures.

Many stores sell potted herbs to keep in your house. Hardy greens like kale, spinach, garlic, or winter rye can still be sown this time of year. Just because it's no longer spring (and hasn't been for a long time), doesn't mean you can't tend a garden. Let us, as Bailey did, look at the land with reverence. Let us indulge "the spirit of the open country" as Bailey did. And never forget that life, goodness, and renewal begin in the ground beneath our feet.