Weeds are nature’s way of repairing the soil. So, why did I spend dozens of hours messing with the balance? Much of my time in the garden is spent weeding: weeding before making beds, weeding beds, weeding paths… I was starting to doubt this was the way to go.

Note: The video version of this post gets released on Thursday, August 1, 2024.

The sunflowers-and-pea bed had been a rush job. I’d done a bad job prepping before planting.

Weeds were inches tall–and everywhere. But the sunflowers were strong and taller. I was torn.

Much of my time in the garden is spent weeding: weeding before making beds, weeding beds, weeding paths…

As I was pulling them, a line from a video I’d watched weeks ago kept popping back into my head: Weeds are nature’s way of repairing the soil. Who was I to mess with that?

Nature stores weed seeds in the soil to deploy when times require it.

My behated horsetail, for example, is great at loosening compacted soil.

Clover brings nitrogen into the soil. If I walk my garden, there are different weeds in different areas. The type of weeds you grow tell you a lot about your garden.

The problem with weeds is that they are also opportunists. And I was creating opportunities left, right, and center.

As I keep saying: bare soil is bad soil. Bare soil is also an opportunity for nature to “fix things” for you. How is a mindless “being” supposed to know I have plans for that bed?

So, when I’d left bare soil around the sunflowers, weeds grew there to take care of the soil.

Bare soil is bad soil. Nature fixed that for me. Just not the way I would like.

As I am sitting here editing this, I think I should have left anything non-rhizomatous.

Granted, 80% of what I am removing in this scene is rhizomatous grass. Still. The rest could have stayed. A thick layer of mulch would have smothered them.

Speaking of mulch: this is my least favorite mulching material so far

It works well as a mulch but I don’t like the feel of it on my hands and feet. It is also a very bright material, reflecting more light away from the soil.

While I was weeding in blazingly hot sunshine, most of this year has been overcast and cooler. The plants could probably use the extra bit of sun energy.

But as always, we use what we have. And right then, I had a giant bag of bedding.

The bag had been bought to grow mushrooms in last year. But this year, the mushrooms came with straw. I’d also again run out of grass clippings donated by mowing garden neighbors. The bedding was needed.

The umbrella from the balcony made the work a lot easier. There are not many sunny days this year. But when the sun is out, days are hot, humid, and burn the skin easily.

Edges were still missing in a lot of places but I was making progress.

When I took a break for lunch, more than half of the main sunflower bed were mulched and weeded.

We’ve mulched most of the sunflowers. And, it’s very hot, even with the umbrella.

But most of the sunflower-and-pea bed is mulched, and I hopefully have enough to get the rest mulched.

The neighbors donated some more grass clippings, so hopefully, I can do all that.

Then I also have to figure out how to make another potato bed. Yes, more potatoes.

When we left, the giant bag of bedding was empty. I ran out before finishing the bed. But I got a lot done.

I can use cardboard for the path and deal with it another time. I’ll get access to a lot of straw soon.

I’d even used the rest of my grass clippings to finish the horseshoe part of the bed.

The hollyhock is almost through for the year but there are still beautiful blossoms everywhere.

The bumblebees love their sweet nectar. I used these flowers in my blossom syrup last episode. I agree! Delicious!

The next afternoon brought more blazingly hot sunshine, so Pepper and I continued weeding.

I’d sown beets and chard here with very mixed results. I weeded around the plants to give them the best chances.

I’ve sown more seeds in the winter bed since but I’ll have to build them a cold frame soon. It’s almost August now.

In real time, I just finished my final exam. If the weather permits, I’ll now get to catch up on the garden.

Next year, the beds will require a lot less work, as I will keep everything cover-cropped through winter. This year, I’d inherited an overgrown, weedy, compacted mess.

I am also learning to appreciate some of the weeds. A few days ago, we had chickweed in our lasagna.

These pansies deliver a permanent supply of edible blossoms for salads and syrups.

But I am also slowly learning to appreciate the rest of my weeds. Yes, even the horsetail. Granted, it’s easier to appreciate flowers.

Weeds are nature’s way to heal the soil. I’m learning to work with nature here, too.

Slowly, I am learning how to steward this land rather than submit it to my will while still growing food.

I get to try out methods, understand how things work. I am a scientist, and life is an experiment.

In a year, maybe a year and a half, we are moving on. I’ll get to apply these lessons to our own land then.

I even decided on a topic for my master thesis this week: I’ll write about the benefits of regenerative agriculture.

I’ll look into what farmers and the general public think about it, the misconceptions, and how to better communicate that this is the way to go–even on a larger scale.

Wish me luck that they accept the topic. Like my bachelor’s thesis, it is unusual.

I have found many bricks on my land and the surrounding gardens. They’ll make a great edge for this bed. I’ll collect more soon to make edges for the mushroom beds, too.

The soil under the bright mulch is cool. Pepper understands this.

Pepper seems to have vacated the spot where he dug around, so I’m going to move the mulch back.

He’d found a shady spot in fresh mulch–and on top of some beetroot. He really does not understand.

As I keep saying: bare soil is bad soil, so I restored the mulch Pepper had pushed around.

It’s been a good day so far. I weeded a little bed. I moved some mulch around to where I already weeded. And… it’s all looking good!

I know I won’t have any peppers. And I’m not sure if the rain will be back soon–I think it will be–if the tomatoes are gonna make it. I am very worried about the tomatoes. But right now, the sun is shining, there is an umbrella over my head, and I am content.

I was worried about the tomatoes for good reason, but we’ll talk about that next time.

I’ll leave you on this happy note and with this cicada in my greenhouse instead.

So long, and thanks for being here.