Lebensraum

Back in the late 20th century I signed up to be a member of a community garden around the corner from my apartment. It took me a year and a half to get on the wait list. Then I waited ten more years for a space to become available.

Once I finally had a little patch of dirt I paid my fees and started planting veggies. Unfortunately I immediately ran afoul of the garden police. Nightshades were verboten. Do you know what nightshades are? Tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, potatoes… Half the things normally found in a garden belong to this group of plants and they were off limits.

At first I assumed it had to do with the need for crop rotation and plant diseases. That would have been reasonable. But it was actually about the organizers and their personal dietary preoccupations. They believed the mere presence of nightshades would adversely affect their health. This was an offshoot of the ever expanding panic over gluten and lactose. I rolled my eyes and complied.

I quickly discovered many other restrictions. There was a communal compost bin, but I was told to carry my green waste back home for disposal. This wasn’t a physical problem, but a philosophical one. The people in charge had a specific vision of how everyone should behave and my veggie plot wasn’t fitting in.

I don’t mind structure if it performs well and meets my needs. I can be made to submit to any authority when I respect those in charge. But I tend to opt out of a highly controlled environment where the rules seem capricious and counterproductive. I had waited a dozen years for access to a scrap of soil smaller than my mattress and decided it wasn’t worth it. At the end of the first year I relinquished my spot.

Meanwhile, I found creative ways to garden in what little space was available to me elsewhere. There’s a light well in my building that gets enough indirect sun to keep shade tolerant plants alive. Veggies weren’t going to work, but I gradually found what thrived and what didn’t and fleshed out a compact ornamental garden.

The light well is actually two halves that overlap - part my building and part the building next door. Little by little I expanded my garden activities to include the whole space. The people next door never complained. As different people moved in and out over the years it was assumed to be a feature of the property. Instead of looking out at tar paper and pipes the light well was a giant terrarium. I had cultivated an island of greenery in the city.

That same building next door has a garage with a flat sunny roof and a back patio. I can see it from my kitchen window. The building has seen several owners and numerous renters pass through since I’ve lived here. Some were highly motivated to maintain and improve their space. Others had different priorities. But the common areas of the building were a no-man’s-land that had experienced benign neglect.

Over time I quietly colonized the space. I pulled weeds from cracks in the concrete slab, swept and hosed things down, repurposed existing materials, and removed the accumulated trash. Then I installed a collection of potted plants and even a couple of emergency earthquake water tanks to supplement the supplies I keep in my own building.

I eventually transformed the garage roof into a garden and outdoor lounge. I didn’t seek permission. I just did it in baby steps and waited to see if anyone objected. No one ever did. Second hand outdoor furniture is cheap and easy to come by. There are entire warehouses full of such things at deep discounts. It’s just a matter of poking around until the right items appear. Fitting this space with used furniture cost about the same as a year’s membership at the old community garden. And if I’m ever asked to vacate the space I can move it to another location.

When Covid restrictions kicked in a lot of city people found themselves isolated in their apartments. And lo and behold I had already created a secure outdoor quarantine retreat that was suitable for al fresco meals, light puttering, and sanity space.

I always prefer a productive garden with an emphasis on food, but a comfortable and attractive space is generally less objectionable to other people. So most of the things I planted are both pretty and bear fruit. There are multiple grape vines, guavas, Asian pears, numerous citrus, gooseberries, kiwis, Malabar spinach, and so on.

Once I got going with the roof garden some of the occupants of the building started to use it too. There was an interest in growing summer veggies so I procured some big 25 gallon grow bags. 10 for $36 on the interwebs. They won’t last forever, but we should get a couple of seasons out of them. What did the neighbors plant? Tomatoes, peppers, eggplant… lots of nightshades.

I recently began an expansion onto the other side of the garage roof by installing more lattice. I’ll be introducing espaliered fruit trees and more veggies as well as a simple cafe table and chairs. A bit of soft lighting in the form of a solar lantern or two might be nice.

By now the absentee landlords have caught on to my activities. They’re actually quite pleased. I’m not damaging anything, they’re getting some free maintenance from the sub rosa arrangement, and their tenants are enjoying the additional space.

There are distinct benefits that come with rules and restrictions. But that’s not my natural habitat. I gravitate toward the cracks and wastelands that no one else cares about. I need lebensraum  and this is my Sudetenland.

Granola Shotgun posts from the last five years can be accessed via the Way Back Machine.