Regenerative Gardening and the Art of Noticing
Regenerative gardening begins long before a shovel touches the soil. It begins with noticing. Every spring, kneeling in the garden beds, sifting compost through my fingers before the first seed goes in, I am reminded of the same lesson. The garden does not need me to fix it. It needs me to notice and to listen.
That is the whole of regenerative gardening, really, once you strip away the terminology. Not a set of techniques to master, though there are plenty of those too. A relationship. You stop asking what you can make the land do, and start noticing what it is already doing on its own.
There is more life in a single handful of good soil than most of us ever stop to consider. Bacteria, fungi, earthworms, all working quietly underneath everything, breaking down what is finished and making it available to what is beginning. Soil is not dirt waiting for instructions. It is already a whole world. Our job as gardeners is mostly to stop interrupting it. Compost instead of synthetic nutrients. Mulch or cover crop instead of bare exposed ground. Plant diversity over uniformity.
Seeds ask for a similar kind of trust. Look for open pollinated and heirloom varieties when possible, because those seeds remember things. They have adapted, season after season, to the conditions of nature. Grow what you are curious about. Tomatoes if you love tomatoes. Chamomile if you want tea in the evenings. A whole bed of sunflowers if that is what makes you smile.
Before anything goes into the ground, just watch for a while. Where does the sun fall across the yard? Where does water pool after rain? Which corners does the wind find first? Site selection is really just paying attention long enough to let the land tell you what it needs.
And then care, which is the part people skip because it sounds like the boring middle. Care is not an emergency response. It is not waiting until something looks wrong and rushing in to save it. It is the slow, unglamorous rhythm of feeding the soil before it asks, covering it before it dries out, harvesting in the cool of the morning with a little gratitude instead of urgency. Leaving some for the pollinators. Composting what is left so the whole cycle can begin again.
I put together a full notebook and resource guide, from a workshop I teach on regenerative gardening. It walks through all of this in more depth– soil, seed, planting, care, along with local Wasatch Front resources, and a planting calendar for our exact elevation and climate. It is free, and it is yours if you want it.
Here is the invitation, and it’s the same thing I would tell you on the mat–
Plant your garden.
Tend to your soil, whatever plot of land you’ve found yourself on.
You do not need to force it, just keep showing up and paying attention.
Trust yourself. You already know more than you think you do.
Take what you want from that. 🌿