Gardening and the Pace of Things

I am a software engineer, so most of my day is in front of a screen. Things respond quickly there. Code compiles or it doesn’t, a message gets a reply, something either works or it breaks. I got used to that without really noticing I had.

I had always liked the idea of gardening, just never done it. At some point the time and situation felt right and I started. Also wanted to do something that had nothing to do with screens or electronics. Soil, water, sunlight. That was the appeal.

I water a plant and walk away not knowing if it did anything. The soil looks the same the next morning, the leaves don’t visibly change, and if something is happening it’s somewhere I can’t see. Weeks went by where I couldn’t really tell if I was helping or just showing up.

Then one morning a leaf had an odd color, slightly yellow at the edges and curling inward. I took a photo and sent it to ChatGPT out of curiosity. It gave me a confident answer. I read it, tried to understand what the plant might need, and moved on. Somewhere along the way I realized I had started paying more attention to the plant itself rather than looking for someone to tell me what was wrong with it.

The basics turned out to be most of it. Good soil, mostly. Something to hold moisture, something to let it drain, something to feed the roots. Soil, cocopeat & compost. The balance matters more than the ingredients. And water only when the soil asks for it, not before.

One plant died and I still don’t know why. By the time something was clearly wrong it was already too late. There was no obvious moment I could point to.

The others came up slowly. Quietly, in their own order, at their own pace. It was nice to watch.

Some plants have looked exactly the same for weeks now. Same height, same leaves, no visible change. I notice it, but it doesn’t pull at me the way it used to. I water, I check the soil, I watch. Most mornings that’s enough.