A Community Garden

Weekend mornings are my favourite times, before I have actually spoken with anyone. It is grey this morning, except for the vibrancy of autumn leaves, those still on the trees and the trampled remnants of those that have fallen. The Pacific air is surprisingly warm for the first day of November. Leftover bits of last night's celebrations decorate the sidewalks: a yellow feather here, some sequins there. People are up and moving silently, calmly about their business. My legs feel strong this morning, or at least stronger than usual. They carry me up the hill to my regular diner for breakfast and then further to a local market to pick up supplies. As I am coming home the first sprinkles of rain begin to fall.

In spite of them, I stop to marvel at a corner lot near my home where a gas station stood last spring. It was removed along with the PCB-tainted soil last summer to make way for another high-rise mixed-use condo, as if we didn't have a few hundred too many already. But the development has taken an unexpected and surprising turn. The land has been cleaned and leveled and a community garden has taken its place. A simple country-styled fence surrounds the lot, which has been divided into slightly raised plots of different shapes filled with sheep manure that still greets my nostrils. There are straight and diagonal cedar-chip paths between them and a lattice arch entrance welcoming visitors. Simple lattice screens have been erected near the centre and comfortable-looking wooden benches scattered around the edges facing inward. No hint of security here.

Of course the plots are still empty as it has just been completed, but how fascinating that such an enterprise should spring up on the corner of two major streets in the core of the city. I wonder how long the garden will remain before the high-rise replaces it. Obviously they intend it to be here at least a year or two after all this effort. And how will it work without security? I imagine vegetables will not last long with all the homeless and dumpster divers in this city, and the low fences make no effort to exclude them.

Perhaps the boldness of the plan, the deliberate lack of security generally unknown these days, will be respected for the minor miracle that it is and it will succeed. I hope so. Considering the massive amount of construction and changes going on in this pre-Olympic city, this garden is the most interesting piece of development I have seen in years. I wish I could still garden.