
When I first moved to the woods, I had a dream.
A big, romantic, garden-in-full-bloom kind of dream.
I pictured raised beds full of heirloom vegetables, medicinal herbs thriving in every corner and baskets overflowing with greens.
So I did what many of us do when we feel that first spark of inspiration:
I got stuck in the research spiral.
I read all the books.
Watched every YouTube gardener.
Followed all the homestead accounts.
Pinned a hundred âperfectâ garden layouts.
And then?
I froze.
Because suddenly, none of it felt good enough. I wasnât ready. I didnât know enough. What if I planted things wrong? What if my soil wasnât right? What if I failed?
It wasnât until I stood in the middle of my messy yard, journal in one hand and a seed packet in the other, that I said â Forget it.
Iâm just going to start.
And I did.
No master plan.
No perfect setup.
Just soil, seeds, hands, and heart.
And thatâs where the real magic began.
đż Gardening Isnât About Getting It Right â Itâs About Getting Into It
I stopped trying to control every part of the process. I started listening â really listening â to my land. I paid attention to the way the light shifted during the day, where the dew lingered, how the birds and bees moved through the yard.
I planted what I was drawn to. I made mistakes. I watched what thrived. I learned what didnât. And I kept going.
Because nature canât be rushed.
Itâs not supposed to be perfect.
And neither are you.
đŒ Every Garden Teaches You Something â If You Let It
That first year? There were hundreds of ticks in my garden. Not much grew. And the deer absolutely demolished our fruit trees.
But you know what else happened?
I learned that yarrow thrives in our soil. That lambs ear likes to be left alone. That planting too early invites frost, sometimes when you're certain the frost is over...its not. I learned how to identify plants in nature, start plants by seed, and how to companion plant.
Mostly, I learned to trust myself.
đ» You Donât Need to Be an Expert to Grow Something Beautiful
If youâre standing at the edge of a dream garden, frozen by the fear of not knowing enough â let me lovingly say:
You already have everything you need to begin.
Start small.
Start messy.
Start now.
Dig into the dirt. Let the sun kiss your cheeks. Listen to the whispers of the plants. Trust that youâll learn something in every season â not just about gardening, but about yourself.
And when it feels hard or messy or like youâve messed it all up?
Remember: Youâre not behind. Youâre in rhythm with the earth.
And the earth is patient.
đ± Final Thoughts from the Garden
You are nature.
You bloom, you rest, you grow with time.
So get your hands in the dirt. Plant the seed.
Water it with intention, (or forget to water it and let mother nature lend a hand with that) and let the rest unfold.
This isnât just gardening. Itâs healing.
Itâs trusting.
Itâs remembering.
Let it be wild, imperfect, and beautifully yours.
-Ava
â