A few weeks ago I had the strange and startling realization about this land. It was one of those things – like a grasshopper moment, when you get that it hops on grass.
I live in a garden. I live next door to an orchard. Nearly all the plants that I interact with on a daily basis were added to the landscape by humans. This is not wild land.
I have read that some might see nature in a garden, but nature itself mostly sees gardens as expressions of human nature. (Co-Creative Science by Machelle Small-Wright)
And I live on a garden. It is what humans in the wilderness like to do. Homestead. Clear out the wild and plant a garden and an orchard. I don’t see any part of this land I live on that has not been impacted by humans before we bought it. And in many ways, I am thankful – the peach trees are already old enough to bear fruit, the pine trees the previous owners planted give plenty of shade. But when looking around for wild land, I have to go a bit further away than the edge of my garden to find it.
I notice that being in the wild, where the system is self-maintained, is very restful for me. And I’m enjoying reclaiming this land from the asphalt of the previous owners and putting in more garden space.