Learn as You Grow: What Every Beginner Gardener Should Know

Here’s a secret: It’s easier than you think. A lifelong gardener shares how—and why—to get started.
Learn as You Grow: What Every Beginner Gardener Should Know
Gardening offers rest to the soul while also giving back to the environment. QKon Studio/Shutterstock
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My first garden was a tree nursery—maple trees, to be exact. I was 10 years old and living in a neighborhood where maples were abundant, as were maple seeds and seedlings. I was amazed that I could dig up little sprouts with a trowel, tuck them in a backyard garden, water them occasionally, and grow trees.

Trees!

The same trees that produced all the awesome piles of leaves we jumped into each fall, that we climbed in to show off, that held summer heat at bay and seeped sweet syrup each spring, if we only knew how to collect it.

I’ve had a garden ever since—a five-decade passion still resting on that initial fascination with the miracle of growth. Poet Dylan Thomas called it “the force that through the green fuse drives the flower,” and it may be the most powerful force on earth. It makes our planet habitable, feeds and shelters us, confers superb spiritual value, holds the land in place, and clears the air of murk.

Growing things is easy. But that seems to be a secret.

Many people eschew gardening as if it were quantum mechanics. They lament that they “don’t have a green thumb,“ are “afraid to try,” or “don’t like dirt.“ ”It takes too much time,“ others say. “It’s what stores are for.”

I recognize that all new undertakings seem perilous and taxing. I do not want to learn to dance (I’ve tried). But gardening is much easier than that. Here are some thoughts for aspiring gardeners.

Love, Not Money

Gardening is not for saving time, effort, or money—unless you grow ultra-high-value foods such as berries. Let’s be clear what it’s about: great flavor, spiritual and emotional wellness, and a big dose of nutritional nourishment.

It is incontrovertibly true that homegrown food tastes better—much better. It’s better for you, too. Grocery store produce is bred, grown, and processed for shipping and shelf life. If you value taste and health, there’s no substitute for growing your own.

Although gardening saves no more money than recreational fishing, a few pricey foods, such as berries, can be far more economical when grown at home. My annual marionberry crop is worth hundreds of dollars at supermarket prices, but now that the vines have been in the ground for eight years, I reckon I invest $10 and 10 hours a year. In return, I get 10 gallons of berries, which take up a whole shelf in my freezer in winter.

Some expensive foods, such as berries, can be more economical to grow at home. (Agenturfotografin/Shutterstock)
Some expensive foods, such as berries, can be more economical to grow at home. Agenturfotografin/Shutterstock

Gardening Is Local

It’s hyperlocal, in fact. Growing conditions vary by region, county, city, street, and backyard. Seriously. The famous U.S. Department of Agriculture climate zones are a very broad guide that suggest, roughly, that you cannot grow lemons in Lexington or apples in Anaheim.

It’s even local in your own yard: Tomatoes will do fine in the sun by a south-facing wall, but probably not in partial shade facing north.

Some of this information is easily acquired—talk to neighbors who garden and to reps at nurseries, and look for local gardening guides. I have long relied on “The Western Garden Book,” a peerless encyclopedia by Sunset magazine that covers the entire West Coast from Mexico to Canada. Every U.S. region has at least one such guide.

But how do you learn the hyperlocal details? Apply common sense and see what results you get. Maybe you can grow tomatoes in partial shade in eastern Texas. My sister does.

Easy Does It

Start small. A beginner garden should be about eight by 20 feet; that’s enough room for a half-dozen crops. It will be simple to prepare, water, weed, and harvest.

Dig up the ground, turn in five bags of composted manure, plant the seeds, and away you go.

As for seeds, no one starts playing piano by attempting Rachmaninoff. Beginner vegetables are not only easy to grow, but also wonderful in the kitchen. Here are some examples:
  • Beans: These are the premier easy vegetables that will teach you, feed you, and confer bragging rights. Old-fashioned varieties such as Provider, Blue Lake, and Kentucky Wonder are highly adaptable (you probably can grow them in Anaheim and Alberta), faithfully productive, and wondrously flavorful.
  • Garlic: Hardly anything is easier than garlic. In most of the country, you plant the cloves in October, make sure they have enough water in May, and dig up the bulbs in June. Presto! They do need fertile soil, but so does everything.
  • Carrots: Sow the seeds in late April, keep them watered, and thin seedlings adequately (a chore at which I often fail), and you’ll have super carrots about 60 days later. You can also leave them in the ground until the dead of winter and dig up a few as needed. It’s your own supply chain! I’ve found Yellowstone to be the most productive, easy-to-grow variety.
  • Tomatoes: These are quite easy as long as you pick the right variety. There are hot- and cool-climate tomatoes; bush and long-vine tomatoes; red, black, green, yellow, purple, and orange tomatoes; big and little tomatoes. The best for beginners are yellow cherry tomatoes such as Sungold.
  • Chard: Better than spinach, much easier to grow, and versatile in the kitchen, chard is a mainstay for any gardener. I get better results with rainbow blends than with the classic white-stem “Swiss” chard. It’s another “supply chain” crop—in mid-February, I’m still regularly harvesting last summer’s chard.
Beans are recommended for beginner gardeners, and are also beneficial for the soil. (Studio_Fennel/Shutterstock)
Beans are recommended for beginner gardeners, and are also beneficial for the soil. Studio_Fennel/Shutterstock

Post-Graduate Study

The first year or two should prove so meaningful that you take your shovel out back and start eyeing your lawn covetously. Until I moved to a 27-acre farm, I often pared my urban lawn back, thinking, “What is it good for? Croquet?”

Once you’ve got a year or two of experience with easy types, by all means explore more fussy crops. Corn, kale, berries, squash, rhubarb, lettuce, potatoes, chili peppers, and parsnips all present moderate challenges that require a bit more attention. Fail to provide corn enough water, for instance, and it’s toast. If lettuce dries out, even for a day, it just stops, period.

After that, doctorate-level garden plants are high-maintenance things such as watermelon and okra (you must have long hot summers, period), broccoli and Brussels sprouts (grievously beset by pests), and basil and cilantro (so heavenly, but so delicate).

By all means experiment, but temper your expectations. I spent five years trying watermelon, which my wife, Nicole, loves, but the grand total was one pitiful, three-inch, supposedly cool-climate melon.

Ground Zero Is ... the Ground

There’s no substitute for soil fertility. Most garden guides call for “medium garden soil,” whatever that is. My conclusion, based on what military strategists call ground-truthing, is simple: Annual spring applications of composted manure are essential.
Yes, turn the soil in spring. All of our garden plants have been bred for millennia to grow in broken ground.

Don’t Overthink This

Do you need to have your soil tested to find out its pH, mineral levels, organic content, and such? Not unless you’re trying to grow two acres of carnations. Soil moisture monitors are silly—watch your plants for wilting and stick your index finger into the ground to make a tactile measurement.
Prepare the soil. Plant the seeds, neither too early nor too late. Keep the plants well-watered. Pull weeds once a month. Harvest every day when things are ready to pick. That’s 95 percent of gardening success.

It’s the Water

Virtually every time I have a poorly performing crop, I check the soil and find that it has dried out. Tomatoes, carrots, beans, chard, berries—everything I grow. There’s no such thing as a drought-hardy garden plant, in my experience.
Every five days, ample water. Period. If there’s rain, swell, but make sure it’s enough. If not, get the hose.

Take a Trip Out Back

Please visit your garden—every day in the growing season. Admire it, inspect it, and look for treats for your soul such as just-ripe strawberries. Make sure nothing’s wilting, no pests are partying, no vines have fallen down, and no weeds have risen high. Pick a handful of flowers. This daily routine will nourish you and your garden in many ways.
As filmmaker Woody Allen said, “Ninety percent of success is just showing up.”

Use It or Lose It

Harvest is an overlooked reward. It takes time and attention—best not skip more than a day during peak season—and some crops lose quality quickly. Few cooks or diners like overripe corn or green beans, for example. Berries quickly turn to mush or mold. They’re right outside your backdoor, so get out there. Going on vacation? Invite a friend or neighbor to come keep the beans and tomatoes picked.
Attending to, using, storing, and just treasuring your crops—that’s what we’re here for, both gardeners and gardens. Remember all those summer marionberries in my freezer? When I haul out a gallon in midwinter and make up a berry cobbler, everyone is amazed and grateful. Including me.

Last, but Not Least

The plants we grow in our gardens have been our faithful companions for thousands of years. I personally believe that these foods and fruits have chosen to accompany us as much as we have chosen them. So give thanks for that marvelous, historic union of plants and people.

Each year at Thanksgiving, we start our dinner with an old Anglican blessing: “Most gracious God, by whose light the depths are broken up and the clouds drop down the dew, we give hearty thanks and praise for the return of seed time and harvest, for the increase of the ground and the gathering in of fruits.”

That sums it up for both first-time and lifetime gardeners. The blessing of the garden is the garden itself.

Eric Lucas
Eric Lucas
Author
Eric Lucas is a retired associate editor at Alaska Beyond Magazine and lives on a small farm on a remote island north of Seattle, where he grows organic hay, beans, apples, and squash.