Love of Soil

There's nothing more essential to gardening, of any kind, than soil. While there are many things we call soil: rocky bonsai soils, dusty cactus mixes, plastic bags of store-bought potting soils – there is nothing for the gardener that matches the soil of their native garden plot.

Because whether they are the coal-black soils of my childhood in northern Iowa, or the tans and browns of my home in eastern Iowa, those natural soils all share one quality that I believe every gardener appreciates, at least once a year: the smell. The dark, fragrant, complex scent of soil, especially as soil wakes up from winter, is a perfume that cannot be compared to the sweetest rose, fresh-baked bread, or the richest chocolate. If soil were rare, humans would mine for it deep into the earth simply to allow us to run our hands through it and release its bright perfume on being turned over.

Newly-opened spring ground unleashes a heady, transporting vapor on the gardener, as if Nature herself has put-the-coffee-on for visitors. Energizing, refreshing, eye opening, the first invigorating whiff of soil in the spring whisks me off my feet and I wake up as if from a long winter of sleep. It pulls up the corners of my mouth, then smiles back at me, and says, "The earth is alive again and we're just waiting for someone to come grow with us!"

If it were nothing else, the aroma of fresh soil is a call to action, a decree of happiness:

“Today is a new day, a new chance everyone is invited to enjoy!”

The cheery urgency of that smell can, at least for the moment, remind us of all the good things in life, and make all the frustrating things seem smaller. With such a mood-altering fragrance in the air how can one focus? How can one keep a mind on business, once this intoxicating invitation is made? Good luck trying, and good luck growing.