About the Blogger
I consider myself a thoroughly urban girl. I grew up in New York City, playing hopscotch and jump rope on the street. I didn’t have much open space, but I had one thing no country kid had: a fire escape. I often snuck out on the fire escape whenever my friends on the floors above me snuck out on theirs. The fire escape was a special place. It was there that my mother tended flower and herb boxes. I loved watching things grow from the pots, especially pansies, and the smell of mint, my mom’s herb of choice.
My family eventually moved out to the suburbs, where there were trees, grass and huge orange tiger lilies. Though things bloomed all around me, it wasn’t the same as watching things grow from contained little spaces, where I saw leaves and flowers unfold in slow motion. There was magic in those tiny places, which I could never find in a big backyard.
I’m back in the city again, and I’m as drawn to patches of greenery in little places as I was to flower pots as a kid. I love community gardens and am blown away by the larger ones, the ones that grow enough food to be called farms. In East New York, under the elevated 2 subway line, there’s a half-acre garden that grows everything from turnips and mustard greens to eggplant, peppers, squash, cucumbers and scallions. It’s one of more than 30 food-producing city farms that in 2004 harvested more than 30,000 pounds of fruits and vegetables.
Even though I’m an urban girl through and through, there’s a part of me that loves to see a little bit of the country in the city.