About a month ago, I received a tip in the middle of the night that the garden was gone. Gone, I thought? That’s impossible.
But when I went to check it out, it was about as “gone” as a garden could be. The remaining autumn plants and perennial shrubs were removed. In October, I bought clover seeds online, to sow as a ground cover over the winter and bring much-needed nutrients to the soil. I also read that clover works especially well with grape vines, which I had recently planted and had high hopes for covering the cinder block wall. But instead of a lush green ground cover, I found mulch. And under the mulch was some synthetic netting, I suppose to keep out the “weeds.” And under the netting, I found those baby weeds, my little green clover sprouts with no hope for survival.
Obviously, I was enraged. I went into the Ba Le Bakery where the garden is located, and got in a long line of customers. Persistently, I asked a couple of employees, and finally a more helpful manager what happened, or what could have happened. They clearly had no idea; they concluded that some Mexican neighbors came by and took the vegetation. I told them that people had been picking stuff all along, but nobody has ever mulched over the whole darn thing. Finally, they gave me the number of the gardener for the entire shopping center, but I never could get a hold of him.
I feel that this is the end of an era for me. And I’m not sure if I should even continue this blog. I’m tempted to keep posting about my nature/garden-based findings throughout the city, since that’s what I’ve always loved: the way nature creeps its way through urban environments. We will see what happens, and if I will ever find another prime location for a guerrilla garden.