Inspiration
How Gardening Is Like Knitting
Dear Kay,
I came back from Chautauqua to find my garden looking pretty terrible. Big storms had blown over the goldenrod, the Joe Pye weed, and the cosmos. Rust had overtaken the amsonia, which I felt bad about because I’d been badmouthing its overexuberant ways. I take it all back, amsonia!
And! The ultimate insult?
Bunny The Destroyer was sitting right there in the middle of it, placidly gnawing away at the passionflower vine that was the triumph of my volunteer sprouts. When I got out of the car, she did not even flinch.
It’s fine, it’s fine. I think I love this garden so much because it rhymes with the thing I do all day, which is to think about making, craft, community, and why something is interesting.
The Plan. A garden calls for the same decisions that knitting does. What’s the big idea? What’s this going to be? A pot? A bed? A raised bed? A row of raised beds? An acre? When we knit, it’s a hat, a sock, a scarf, a sweater, a blanket. Choosing your mission is a big deal. Flowers or vegetables? Both? What’s the color scheme?
Mood. There is gardening for every mood: on those early spring days, you’re out there digging like a badger. And then comes high summer, when whatever dreams and schemes you had are either working or not working, when it’s so sultry that it feels like a job to walk outside. Knitting allows for the same kind of energies. You can be knitting nonstop on some Estonian lace fantasia. Or barely getting a row out.
Noticing. The more I work in the garden, the more I see. At this point, I can sit a good long while, watching a bee on a coneflower. It’s the same with knitting. At first I focused utterly on getting a stitch to land on my needle—a triumph! As I gained experience, I started to see how to read my knitting, to understand why each kind of yarn behaves the way it does. I can ponder a mohair scarf until I’m hypnotized.
Patience. A seed becomes a sprout, then a stem, then a plant. It all happens in real time, just as a stitch becomes a row and a row becomes a sleeve. It’s impossible to blast through any of it.
Related: Tediousness. The tedious part is the important part. Weeding is possibly the most satisfying before-and-after, cause-and-effect thing I do these days. In knitting, its counterpart is the weaving in of ends. It’s true that I sometimes dispense with both of these tasks, but then, I’m missing out on the colossal victory that comes with imposing order on chaos.
Fatalism. Grit. Sometimes it’s going to go well. And sometimes not.
Joy. The feelings of accomplishment, discovery, and surprise are constant.
Community. This thing that happens when I’m by myself also allows a considerable opportunity for sharing the experience with other like-minded folks. The photos in this post are plants that were given to me at the Shakerag Knitting Getaway in June. Linda from Huntsville, Alabama, blew my mind when she handed me a cardboard box with five perennials dug fresh from her garden. Her husband wrote out the ID tags. If you were there and wondered why I kept disappearing, it was to tend my cardboard-box perennial garden tucked under an eave at Harvey House dorm.
At a knitting retreat where we were all swapping skeins of yarn, this was such a moment, where it all came together for me. Thank you, Linda and Linda’s Husband. You’ll be glad to know that Bunny The Destroyer has left all your plants alone.
For now, anyway.
Love,
Ann
i am both a keen gardener and a keen knitter and have often thought about the similarities of the 2 activities but have never been able to express them as well as Ann has done.
thank you ! and may your garden flourish.
but I do feel the need to express one important caveat. if, like me, you dislike wearing gardening gloves it is really vital to have a very good nail brush and industrial strength hand cleaner. especially if, like me, your next knitting project is white baby shawl!
I loved this so much. My garden is exactly this and makes me think of your Kaffe Fassett blanket.
So happy to realize, through your post, that I can share in the same careful planning, intensive preparation, development of patience, pure grit, survival of tedium, joy of harvest, and membership in a sharing community that gardeners enjoy, all without mucking about in the dirt, straining my aging back, fighting sunburn, and providing lunch for hordes of ravenous insects, just by sitting in my cozy chair, listening to Audible, and playing with pretty yarn! (I even have my own version of Destructor Bunny, in feline form.)
Now if I could just get double-knitting fabric to proliferate as quickly as zucchini…
I think zucchini is probably the garden equivalent of garter stitch, lol. Fast and easy.
Such a pleasant and thoughtful piece. Enjoyed reading it and contemplating my knitting and gardening. Both give me a sense of hope and excitement along with a good dose of patience and acceptance.
This warms my heart…..and made me a little weepy this morning. Gardening and knitting are so communal. Maybe these two hobbies can save the world?
What a lovely comparison, Ann, of two of our favorite things. Do any of your neighbors feed the bunnies? That may be the culprit. We have a neighbor who loves to feed the bunnies. Unfortunately his wife is an avid gardener. Somehow they still live in harmony. As innocent bystanders we get to see the fruits of both!…I would think many a gardener would love to know the bunny-averse perennials that Linda gifted you.
Thank you Ann for this heartfelt article on the love of gardening and knitting. The colors, the textures and the beauty created (or attempted to create) are what draws me to both.
Yes!
Thank you ann..a very nice article
Loved this article. I, too, am a gardener as well as a knitter. Both bring me a great sense of joy. My garden plans change according to what comes up in the spring, some wonderful surprises as well as some disappointments when a much loved plant fails to appear. The same for knitting, a sense of accomplishment when the sweater actually fits and is exactly what I thought it would be, but other times a learning experience. Wouldn’t have it any other way.
Beautiful.
I have a destroyer bunny too. At least one! And I have deer. The garden next year will require a better plan.
Lovely. Thanks Ann.
Hi Ann, might I suggest that it may be time to get a dog to keep Bunny the Destroyer at bay?
Love the photos
This is SO spot on!!!! Thank you for the post.
As a gardener and a knitter, your weaving in ends and pulling weeds comparison rings so true!
Rabbits be gone!
and blessed be my knitting and gardening community –
Oh Bunny! [Cue Jaws theme.]
For most of my post-retirement life, I have been increasingly in love with both gardening and knitting. My grandmothers loved handwork (though neither knitted) and they also had amazing gardens–mostly flowers, though Golda (my maternal grandmother) also had a vegetable garden. Both knitting and gardening have taught me to see and perceive in different ways. And flowers here in San Antonio say of color: GO FOR IT! My zinnia bed is currently the neighborhood spot for selfies. Thanks so much, Ann, for this lovely post, and for these delightful pics.
I think this applies to any creative endeavor. I’m a musician and artist as well as a knitter, and the elements you’ve outlined are true for these as well. Thanks for putting it into words.
For years I have had morning glorys round my mail box post.This year I saw a bunny nestled in the young patch of morning glory.He was very happy munching away.I had hope as a morning glory vine was climbling up the post and getting big leaves.Yesterday bunny or in all fairness could be a deer ravished the plant.
Plan for next year,spray with hot pepper sauce mix.
Well,back into the house to console myself with my knitting.ah the flowers were a beautiful purple.whoa,whoa….
Deer be gone from the garden!! Unfortunately, they love hostas. They come at night and bring their friends. The deer are fearless and even though we have a light that comes on when they enter the garden, that doesn’t distract them. For years, the hostas were untouched, but now that there are more deer, there is more munching going on. Thank goodness they don’t eat daylillies, daffodils, Black-eyed Susans, euphorbias, coreopsis, peonies, and azaleas to name a few.
Trying to think of the knitting equivalent of going out in the garden after last night’s storm to find flowers snapped off by the wind. Lilies! Some of the dahlias getting ready to bloom! Roses blown away. Sigh. At least I have power and no tree limbs on my roof.
My mother was NOT interested in gardening, although I had a vegetable garden that was for children only and I lived on the tomatoes and cucumbers that Summer. Colorado was clay-like soil and you don’t see many gardens. Now that I’m living in the Northwest, gardens are growing everywhere. But I have no idea how to grow anything and I’m not willing to learn at the age of 72.
Knitting has been my refuge and creative outlet for years and the pleasure that I derive from knitting and learning are my happy place. I love to go to the farmers markets for my vegetables.
Very nice analogy between knitting and gardening, I love both! There is always something new to learn, both are a work in progress for me
I find knitting and gardening are both meditative and I can escape from the world in both.This year, I planted wildflower seeds in a big pot filled with compost. Had no idea what was in the mix…..so far I have 3 jinormous borage plants, sweet peas and poppies! Love going out each morning to see what’s come up….hope everybody is enjoying their summer!
Love this, Ann. Your comparisons are very apt!
Next time I go to weave in ends I will tell myself I’m weeding out the chaos. I also garden and knit and find both to be therapeutic.