I grew up in LA where gardening means watering your grass. The first time I experienced the process of growing plants was in kindergarten, growing bean plants. The second was when my grandfather came down from Mexico and planted squash along the fence of our front yard. The plants never caught my attention until they were about a foot tall. Unfortunately, that encouraged me and my sister to play squash kick-ball. Where the object of the game was to kick the ball into the squash plants. This memory of my grandfather and his squashed squash plants was reawakened when tiny squash seedlings on my bed resembled those squash plants on my front yard. It made me wonder what plants meant for my grandfather and what they mean to me. 

Somehow I find myself watering 9 different crops on my bed. My bed starts with 80 plants of Hookers Sweet Corn, which is an heirloom variety. Heirlooms are plants with a particular genetic make-up that have existed for several generations with out much human manipulation. This plant produces exceptionally flavorful, white-kernel ears and when mature, the seeds turn purple. Next to the corn I planted about 80 plants of sweet basil to make pesto. Then I planted 68 Walla Walla Onions to make walla walla sweet onion dressing. Next to the onions I planted four different verities of tomatoes, Sungolds, Yellow Pear, Cherry Tomatoes, and Tomatillos. These small tomatoes are going to be used in jalapeno jellies and salsas. The end of the bed is covered by 20 plants of zucchini, 25 Heirloom pumpkin plants, 19 butternut squash, and my favorite, 18 heirloom Moon and Stars Watermelon. According to Seeds of Change this watermelon is the most beautiful. It was feared lost but was rediscovered in Missouri. These watermelons are splashed with big and small bright yellow spots resembling moon and stars. One cannot find this item in the grocery store because it turns into pulp and vinegar in a trailer truck. 

I really never get tired of watering all these plants. I can’t call them my plants, because they are not mine. They belong to the soil that nourished them. To the sun that gave them strength. To the seed with that particular genetic make-up that has allowed it to
survive numerous generations. It seems like these plants are more than fruits and vegetables. Maybe they hold some kind of power like some Native American Indians believe. Now I know why one of my grandfather’s last request was to buy tools and seeds.

*Arturo is exploring the possibility of a future in education integrated with farming. A recent religions major from Carlton (MN), he is currently investigating the spirit in spinach leaves and cilantro bunches.