✦ Dedication: The Alaska Backyard Garden ✦
Haven Making I excerpt + how gardening helped me get & stay sober...
There’s so much gratitude I have for the land that surrounded our home in SE Alaska. Particularly the little plot to the south of the house which I called The Backyard Garden. (Original, yes, I know.) We moved there in May of 2011—through a series of perfectly manifested events. Skagway was, and is, notoriously difficult to encounter proper housing in, and I landed several places with ease in which to live during my nineteen-year stay.
In any case, this home was really nothing too special as far as homes go—I mean, aside from the fact it was situated on an Alaskan acre + of beautiful tall trees, close to town, but in the forest, tucked away, but not too far. It was a handmade deal from a fellow who didn’t really know a whole heap about proper carpentry. But it was ours and we were going to take care of it, tend and fix it up proper. My son was three at the time we moved in, still napping in the afternoons, which allowed me to get into the backyard, and begin my next garden.
There had been some clearing done around the house, and jumbled about were dead branches, tree stumps and much debris. I worked to clean that up, burn the brush and spread the ashes. Watch for Morel mushrooms for the next few years if you do this if they grow where you live! We had brought the greenhouse with us from the Log House and placed it facing east, where it seemed light would hit it best…this greenhouse would soon become the potting shed once I realized the sunbeams reaching it were unsuitable for growing Tomatoes or anything requiring warmth AND ample sunlight!
From the Log House Garden, I dismantled driftwood lined raised-beds and brought those border pieces with me. Also, the soil. Yes. The ‘soil’ in most of Skagway was simply not conducive for growing a garden, you had to make it. So, once I’d made soil using seaweed, leaves, compost and the occasional bale of peat moss, there was no way I was leaving that behind!
So, 5-gallon bucket by 5-gallon bucket, I moved the soil + compost to the house on the hill, the Red House.
I didn’t exactly follow my own advice here…by first watching the lay of the land and seeing where the sun and shadows set during the summer months, or feeling how the wind played through the trees for the first year. I was far too antsy and went to work on the multiple gardens right away. And so, I had some things that didn’t work, like the Raspberries, which I moved two times before they found their proper place. It’s not a good idea to plant right under or near trees of significant size—their roots will eventually find and seek out all your crops nutrients!
Learned that it was a crap-shoot to grow tomatoes, only Cherry Tomatoes grown during a hot summer, in a greenhouse, would mean possible fruit for us in that location ~ we eventually put in a salvaged glass greenhouse where the wooden hot-tub had been…OH!
That reminds me of a story, one of resilience:
We’d been in the house for a couple of years by then and a friend of ours mentioned she was parting with her wooden hot tub (nice and large, but she couldn’t get it to stop leaking)—well, we decided to take it up to our place, and ‘fix’ it…Another friend came up to help T (my partner) move it to the platform he’d built in The Backyard Garden. How amazing it would be to view the northern lights and stars from that tub come winter, to take hot midnight sun soaks during the cool summer eves!
The path to the hot tub base was on a slight downhill, and then a sharp left-hand turn in front of a newly transplanted Cherry tree. The boys were rolling this big ole’ wooden tub quite carefully, but then it got away from them…and began rolling, and rolling and with absolute dismay I watched that hundreds of pounds of wood turn over and smash my recently planted Montmorency Cherry tree.
AAAH! Poor thing was smooshed right flat. They did get the tub up quick, but that gash on the base of the trunk was brutal. We placed electrical tape around the wound—it’s what we had and what we did. (To be fair, I’ve no idea if this was the proper sequence of how to heal a tree, but it worked.) I should mention, I actively talked to this tree and encouraged its healing, I think this was also important. I kept the hose on it during dry spells and placed compost at its base as well.
Three years later, the tape was beginning to peel away, so I gently removed it. There was a gnarly scar, but the trunk had healed. That little Cherry Tree ended up fruiting really well by the time we left. Sweet and sour and a perfect snack for a summer’s day. Winter hardy as well. That hot tub never did stop leaking and eventually it was scrapped. Its base became the base for the next greenhouse though, so that was nice.
Moral of the story: Trees can heal—so can people. And never take a free hot tub.
The Backyard Garden ended up growing a menagerie of Plants. Just how I liked it. Favorites included: Bee Balm, Anise Hyssop, wild Ferns, Goats Beard, Stinging Nettle, Shooting Star, Dwarf Dogwood, Single Delights, Fireweed, Blue Himalayan Poppy, Star flower, Calendula, Strawberries, Blue Vervain, Mullein, Devil’s Club, High-bush Cranberry, and Wormwood. Raspberries, Plantain, Rhododendron, Twisted Stalk aka Watermelon Berry. Tulips, Lupine, Centaurea montana, Spilanthes, Marshmallow, Mint, Rhubarb, Motherwort, wild Geraniums & wild Raspberry, Valerian, Elecampane, Oregano, Bridal Wreath Spirea, Rugosa Rose, Lady’s Mantle, Red-leafed Rose—oh, that reminds me of another story…
It was the garden’s very first May. My son was napping upstairs, I was outside transplanting, envisioning the future of this backyard. It was a beautiful day, the spring sunshine streaming through Spruce and Hemlocks, the Birch leaves glistening brilliant green, and I was watering in the Red-leafed Rose bush dug up from the Log House. Watering after transplanting settles the roots and helps the Plant adjust to its new home.
I might have been whistling, it was that kind of a lovely day. But then there was a tremor, that something was odd, not quite right in my field…and I turned to the left…annnnd….OH MY--THERE’S A BEAR, RIGHT THERE.
In my new garden.
Watching me water this Rose.
Okay, now granted, this was not a large bear, however it was brown, and not black. The brown bears always seemed a little wilder to me, less prone to bluffing. It was bigger than a yearling. I’d been living amongst the bears in SE Alaska for nine years by then, but I’d always been in town before, and even though they loved to visit there too, it was far more likely to have bears in your yard when you lived on “The Hill.”
So, meeting this bear wasn’t unusual. It was however, certainly disruptive to my afternoon gardening plans.
It took a few moments to catch my thoughts. Fortunately, this bear did seem more curious than aggressive. But still. I was scared. It was about 25-30 feet away from me. And the only recourse of action I had was the hose. So, I turned the gentle shower to a stream and directed that stream of water towards the bear. It jumped backwards a few feet and then stood up, wondering what was that!! I suppose. That brief interlude allowed me to drop the hose, and back away until I was behind the house (and out of sight) and could scamper inside.
Our husky dog, Steiner Dandelion helped me out and chased the bear off into the woods. It would happen that we would have eleven different bear encounters during that first official month of living in our new home, the Red House. Certainly, kept you on your toes and aware of your environment, it did!
I could go on and on about the beauty beheld in the Backyard Garden, especially towards the end of our residence. The soil was building up nicely, the perennials in place and I’d found my niche. One of the greatest gifts of that Backyard Garden was in 2017, when the magic of Plants helped me out in a way I never expected…