The enviro shift is on as more and more homeowners are being forced to grow green.

Purchasing poisons such as Roundup and Killex is becoming increasingly difficult as many home and garden stores are now only stocking non-toxic pest control remedies (i.e. Safer’s insecticidal soaps).

Most Lower Mainland cities have banned the use of cosmetic pesticides and herbicides on both private and publicly owned lands. Last month, Surrey came on board as one of the last major cities in the region to consider a bylaw restricting the use of chemicals, although the proposed legislation has come under fire as it doesn’t include city-owned greenspace such as parks.

Still, it’s a step in the right direction.

But old habits die hard, and it’s amazing how panicked some people get at the thought of Dandelions Gone Wild. Personally, I’ve never used toxic concoctions in my yard, and it hasn’t suffered. Quite the contrary.

In fact, after this year’s brutal winter, which weakened and/or killed many prize plants, I’m impressed with the inherent wisdom of my little patch of land. And how its lessons can be applied to real life.

Here are a few insights gained while puttering:

1. Just when you think something is dead, it surprises you with new life.

That was the case with a favourite tub of 15-foot-high bamboo that turned from lush green to brittle brown following January’s deep freeze. Cut back to soil level once the ground thawed, I held not a lot of hope it would return.

But sure enough, with some TLC – a stretch of warm sun, some fresh water and a bit of faith – new sprouts appeared. I’ll try to remember not to give up on other things as easily.

2. The importance of play.

The addition of a new water feature has enthralled the local family of raccoons, whose members have taken to dismantling its parts while enjoying
nocturnal swims – complete with belly flops (really).

Despite hard times in the neighbourhood – not all residents welcome the masked creatures – and an almost constant hunt for safe shelter and ample food, the ’coons make time to have some nightly fun.
We should all be so wise.

3. Patience.

See above. Re-assembling fountain apparatus now a regular chore.

4. That perfection isn’t attainable, nor desirable, for that matter.

The new dogwood was a little scraggly. The azalea? Anemic. The temptation? To rip out the disappointing greenery and start again. But sure enough, the now-thriving pair provides for an unexpected shade garden in a previously sun-bleached spot. An unexpected outcome, but welcome nonetheless.

5. To blast fellow creatures with chemicals is human, to co-exist, divine.

Sitting still in a garden, it’s easy to see all is not stillness. Dragonflies flit from tree to shrub. Bumblebees buzz amidst the blooms. Armies of ants farm unwitting aphids up the new shoots of the Japanese maple and birds nibble at small insects lining the bark of a Styrex japonica. Squirrels forage for sustenance under the fallen leaves, baby skunks roll in the grass and ladybugs arrive to deal with that aphid problem.

“My” garden is home to so many other living beings, I simply can’t justify dousing them with poison. Imagine that sentiment on a global scale.

Need one more incentive to ditch the sprays and grab a manual weed digger? An ice-cold pale ale held by dirt-smeared hands while sitting in a freshly tended garden after the work’s all done is the best beer you’ll ever drink.

Cheers.

Paula Carlson is editor of the Surrey Leader newspaper.