Letting the Garden Go Wild - Purposely!
There comes a moment — maybe you’ve felt it too — where instead of trying to control everything, you simply… allow.
That’s what I did with my garden.
I let it go wild. It wasn't that I didn't care anymore - perhaps a little part of me inside died with events going on in my life, and the garden which had given me such joy, sort of sided with these life-changing events.
But then I remembered, Nature is cyclical. Mother Earth allows that what goes around, comes around. I wanted my joy to come back around just like my favorite black-eyed susans flowers had as I have been spreading them all over my garden since I moved to this 160 year old Victorian Homestead in Southern Vermont.
Even a few of the rose bushs and lilacs had to be at least 80 years old. I respect my elders, and well I guess I have to respect my elder plants too (both inside and out).
So I actually didn't abandon my garden… I just untended 'it', in the way we’re taught it should be.
I stopped pulling everything out. I stopped deciding what should grow.
And instead, I chose to watch. To wait. To listen.
And in 2025 I listened more than I had in years. Bird species grew, my yard was loudest with the number of crickets that wouldn't be heard even across the street at the neighbor's house, they had all moved to mine it seemed.
Because many herbalists believe something rather beautiful —
that if we allow the land to speak, the plants our bodies need will naturally find their way to us. I wanted to test this theory once again. What would show up, if I allowed it to just be, in my organic garden?
I attempted this once before back in Beacon, NY., and for someone who has designed and installed 10 or more gardens from scratch I was still curious about this herbalist hack of attracted needed medicinal plants that one's body needs for best immunity support.
When I was living in Beacon, I did the same thing — I let the garden be.
What came forward surprised me: a full patch of Milk Thistle, growing strong and steady, as if it had always belonged there. Prickly little sucker, I tell you, and you want the young plants for your tea and herbal uses. wink wink.
There was enough to harvest nearly four pounds of herbal material —
enough for teas, tinctures, and quiet moments of healing.
This time, I began a little differently.
I started in 2024 in letting my 'garden go wild' experiment by getting to know the so-called “weeds.” I will share what showed up in my next few posts.
Not rushing to remove them, in fact I don't think I pulled one weed last year! Instead I went in identifying them… understanding them…
learning what they might offer instead of what they might take. I was surprised by my findings and new discoveries of plant species I never knew about.
And then, quietly, almost playfully —
I scattered perennial seeds throughout the garden with permission from my neighbor's yards. A soft toss here, a handful there. No rigid plan. No perfect rows. I have yet to see if any took put my hopes are high for at least a few.
I Am Allowing For Just Possibility.
Those final days of autumn in 2025, I could still hear the many crickets that found solace all summer long in my garden, their speed of song helping me determine the temperatures outside. If their song is steady, the temperatures are around 70 degrees ferinhight.
Here in Vermont, the thaw out from winter is basically Mud Season, which also gives us a very short Spring season. This dirt is deeply rich in nutrients and ripe for plants seeking nitrogen, you can even smell its richness after a short rain.
Now, as spring begins to unfold, I’ll take my first walk through this space again —
to see what chose to grow, what returned, and what is asking for attention.
Because this is where the real work begins…
not in forcing the garden to become something,
but in noticing what it already is.
Just yesterday, I stopped and smelled the hyacinths from forced bulbs that were on sale inside a store, their roses I previously took a whiff of, hadn't any scent. But as I took my third deep breath of that periwinkle blue colored hyacinth, my nose got drunk on its heady bouquet, taking me back to memories of fully blooming gardens of yore. I was recharged.
Blue Hyacinths represent sincerity, constancy, and loyalty along with a time of rebirth.
Follow me as I walk through this little garden of hope —
of weeds and seeds,
of healing and becoming,
and of everything quietly growing in between.
Come watch to see what blooms this year.
All Hugs,
Leah Quinn
Heart and Soul Apothecary
Vermont USA
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