Recently several newcomers have joined my community garden. I’m grateful for the help and for meeting others in the neighborhood who share my enthusiasm for the environment and growing their own food. I’m also pleasantly surprised that anyone is joining this time of year since it’s winter in New York City — cold, wet, and snowy.

I show the new members around, even though it feels like not much to see at this point. The tree limbs are bare. There’s no sign of veggies, herbs, or flowers. The raised beds are covered in snow and ice. You can’t even see the dirt!

“Everything is moving more slowly, but there is plenty of work to be done.”

If previous experience is to be trusted, this space will soon be abundant with plants and activity. In the meantime, everything is moving more slowly, but there is plenty of work to be done. We have been processing food scraps into compost, repairing the tool shed, and shoveling snow on the sidewalks. While not as visibly fruitful as the work we do in the warmer, sunnier months, this work is part of community gardening.

Veggies and herbs aren’t the only things we’re growing. We’re growing virtues, such as patience, hope, humility, cooperation, and generosity.

Hope

As we wait for the snow to melt, a group of gardeners plans to start seeds indoors. We browse our seed inventory thinking about what we’d like to grow — and eat! — in the coming months. We make a batch of seed starting mix, carefully concocted to retain moisture but provide adequate drainage, and to provide the right set of nutrients for the seedlings’ first stage of life. We create cubes of soil using a soil blocker, an environmentally-friendly alternative to flimsy plastic flats. It feels like an industrial Play-Doh mold and takes a bit of effort to get right.

“We sow a few seeds into each block with the understanding that only some will sprout.”

Once we’ve made soil blocks that actually stick together, each of us takes them home along with a heat mat, grow light, timer, and the seeds we’ve selected. We sow a few seeds into each block with the understanding that only some will sprout. Of the ones that do grow into seedlings, only some will survive the transition to the greenhouse and transplanting into the ground. 

It feels so precious at this point, trying to create the perfect conditions for new life to grow. I check the seedlings in my apartment twice daily, looking for any pop of green or sign of life. I’m not the only one in my apartment watching for something to happen — I am careful to protect my seedlings from my curious cats, who would be happy to chew on a microgreen even if it means destroying my hard work. With a little effort, time, and luck, these could grow into an abundant garden, and some of the freshest food I’ve ever eaten.

Patience

While our seedlings are starting inside, the bulbs we planted before winter begin to pop up. I’d almost forgotten we’d put those there! I will garden for years and still be surprised when the first signs of spring appear. Hardy bulbs like tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, and crocuses need to spend the cold winter months underground in order to form the blooms that we count on as the first signs of spring.

“I will garden for years and still be surprised when the first signs of spring appear.”

From that moment on, there’s always new growth to look forward to. One of the prides of our garden is the serviceberry tree. Also called the juneberry, the serviceberry produces fruit that’s like a nuttier, seedier sister to the blueberry. It’s a native tree I didn’t know — and a berry I had never tasted — until I joined the garden in 2021. By the time Robin Wall Kimmerer’s book came out in 2024, it felt like I was reading about a friend. 

Our serviceberry tree grows near the fence, attracting curious visitors, especially when they see a group gathered under it picking berries. It’s a rare sight to see in Brooklyn: people eating fruit picked directly from a tree. I think some people think it’s wrong.

“It’s a rare sight to see in Brooklyn: people eating fruit picked directly from a tree.”

Late last May, eager to introduce others to this special berry, I called some other gardeners over to try some that were just coming in. We laughed, thinking about how this surely isn’t how our friends or family imagine we spend our time in New York. It’s a memory I love. Yet I also remember that mere days later (June 1st to be exact), the juneberries started tasting infinitely better. 

Later in the season, I’ll remember this lesson to be more patient as I’m waiting for tomatoes to ripen on the vine. As tempting as it is to eat tomatoes as soon as you spot them, the ones you let mature taste even sweeter. 

Cooperation

I feel lucky that in my community garden, we grow everything communally. In other gardens, competition can sometimes outweigh the community spirit. Members enter a lottery system to secure the garden plot with the ideal amount of sun. Arguments break out over a tomato that’s gone missing and is presumed to have been stolen. At ours, we work together across many beds, and put in additional work caring for the trees and sidewalks surrounding the garden, letting our cooperative spirit permeate through the neighborhood. A neighbor borrows a snow shovel to dig out his car. Classrooms from the pre-K visit the garden to release the butterflies they were raising. Food pantries nearby share their food scraps to add to our compost, which will provide nutrients for the soil we’ll use to grow future food.

“We work together across many beds, and put in additional work caring for the trees and sidewalks surrounding the garden.”

Meanwhile, the plants are cooperating, too. Companion planting — a technique where gardeners grow plants together strategically — serves a variety of purposes, from enriching the soil to controlling pests and weeds. My favorite companions are the Three Sisters, a traditional Native American planting method where beans, corn, and squash are planted together. The corn stalks grow tall, providing support for the beans to climb. The beans help stabilize the corn plants and enrich the soil with nitrogen. The squash vines cover the soil, keeping it moist and free from weeds, with prickly stems that deter critters. By working and growing together, all three can thrive.

Generosity

With everything in our garden grown communally, any members who contribute by working can harvest. What’s remarkable is that even when many people harvest, there is always more than enough to go around. We set up a table outside the garden gate where we share surplus produce with neighbors. I love to surprise people passing by — again, free fresh food is likely not what they’re expecting on a walk in the city.

“I love to surprise people passing by — again, free fresh food is likely not what they’re expecting on a walk in the city.”

It’s especially exciting when we can share something that connects someone with their family, heritage, or cultural background, like okra or green tomatoes for frying. I also love to pass along the experiences I’ve delighted in when I’ve tried something I had never tried before, like the serviceberry or the edible flower nasturtium. The taste, scent, or even sight of certain vegetables, flowers, and herbs can transport someone somewhere deeply familiar or completely new.

At the grocery store, it’s common to spend exorbitant amounts of money on high-quality ingredients, which sometimes end up going to waste in your fridge anyway. In the garden, you’re encouraged to take only what you need, share the rest, and come back when you need more. 

When cut back properly, plants grow back more abundantly. Sharing — and doing so often — means more people can access fresh food. 

Trust

Much of gardening, especially as a hobbyist, involves a mixture of common sense and experimentation. You make decisions as best as you can and trust that plants are resilient. 

“You make decisions as best as you can and trust that plants are resilient.”

This is most applicable when pruning a plant. Cutting off excess or unwanted growth lets the plant focus its energy on the living parts. When flowers are cut back properly, you not only can get a lovely bouquet but also encourage flower production in the rest of the plant. Some herbs and lettuces develop a bitter taste when they flower, so it’s best to cut those back before they have the chance to. And sometimes you just want a plant to grow wider instead of taller. I have become such an enthusiast for the transformative act of pruning that I have a poster about it in my home. 

When I was taught how to prune lavender, I was given careful instruction for where to make cuts. Lavender is beloved for its fragrant flowers, but its stems become woody over time, and if you cut too close to the wood when pruning, the flowers won’t grow back. When cut at the proper location, though, even stems that looked dead have green inside — a sign of life, and that new growth is still possible.

Humility

In the garden, not everything goes according to plan. Crops that were abundant last year barely leave a mark the next year. Two years ago, we had more cucumbers than I could have imagined, yet plans for pickle production the following year turned out to be unnecessary, as we had…a normal amount of cucumbers. Other crops were a complete wash. 

“With so many environmental conditions at play, it’s not always clear why something fails.”

With so many environmental conditions at play, it’s not always clear why something fails. An entire bed could get infested with pests, weeds, or fungus. Last year, all our eggplants were yellow…and I don’t think they were supposed to be. 

When you dedicate yourself to cultivating life, death is inevitable. If we’re lucky, our failures can be thrown into the compost bin where they’ll transform into fuel for the next growing season. ✨

In the coming months, I hope to spend as much time as I can in the garden. When other parts of life feel hectic or unpredictable, the garden is a place I can rely on. Here I can slow down and observe subtle changes from day to day, and moment to moment. The sun moves, casting unique shadows on the garden. Depending on the season, we’re grateful for the warmth of the sun or the cool of the shade. 

“When other parts of life feel hectic or unpredictable, the garden is a place I can rely on.”

While it’s tempting to see the garden as an escape from daily life in the city, that’s not quite right. After all, even when I’m immersed in gardening, I can still see the dollar store across the street and hear a block party or train rumbling by. Instead, I think of the garden as an important part of my life, where I’m growing virtues I can take with me no matter where I go.

Jenny Nelson is a writer, artist, and community gardener originally from Chicago and living in Brooklyn, NY. She makes music under the name Concourse and plays keyboard in the band Jupiter Boys, among others.