To Trust a Strawberry

My teenage years were spent in a dirty room on the upper level of a two flat in Oak Park just blocks from the Chicago El train’s green line station. This small room had a unique feature, a door to a patio overlooking a busy avenue. It was a vantage from which I witnessed cars hitting cyclists, the intense screeching of the passing train, and homeless seeking refuge from the perils of Winter in the nearby church. Think of it as less of an urban oasis and more of a teetering balcony attached to a rathole.

This precarious patio is where my mother showed me how to plant morning glories, marigolds, and strawberries in narrow pots to grow in the eastern morning sun. We poked little holes in the soil, buried the seeds, and waited for something to emerge. We did not have much in the way of entertainment. The TV had recently gotten stuck on the religious channel, so naturally we unplugged it and moved it to the basement. For lack of anything more exciting, I took to watching the soil and waiting for something to emerge like a Robin seeking its next worm.

On a crisp spring morning, the seed of a morning glory reemerged from the soil. It was suspended midair like a corpse summoned from a graveyard. From within the split seed coat a fuzzy root sunk into the soil and the stem slowly unfurled to reveal two large heart shaped green leaves. It was later joined by Marigold and Strawberry. Spring was spent on that patio learning to nurture and care for these new plants. A smoggy island in the sky where morning glories greeted the sunrise.

The strawberries started to bloom with their dainty white flowers, and started to form little green fruits. I watched as they grew and changed colors until they were a juicy deep red color dotted with what I’d later learn were called achenes. A dry fruit with a seed inside, suspended by a juicy red receptacle. Every strawberry, botanically, is a multitude of fruits. 

As the strawberry ripened, I reached to pluck one and taste the efforts of my labor, but my hand stopped midair. Could I eat this? I knew strawberries were edible. I’d seen them in our fridge, entombed in a plastic case. What if there were worms in it? Unsure, I waited another day. 

My diet back then started with a morning of sugary cereal and milk. For lunch, I picked up my income driven reheated paper dish with plastic stretched over the top from the school cafeteria. Dinner was a Jack’s frozen pizza and Ice cream as a treat. My stomach craved any sort of fresh food, but I was scared to reach out and eat something so different from what I was used to.

The days warmed as the Morning Glories crawled over the wooden railings welcoming each morning with a purple blossom and the Marigolds began to greet summer with intricate golden bursts of light. I watched as the strawberries dried on their stalks and eventually fell onto the rubber flooring of the patio. My first harvest cooking on the heat of the dirty black tar. 

My prize for planting, weeding, and watering went unclaimed, because I was too afraid to eat a fruit without plastic packaging from the grocery store. I do wish I had tried the sweet berry, but I did not yet know the origin of my food. It was my first jump towards something new. It may have been a miss, but unknowingly I was jumping in the right direction.

I kept growing on that patio and have planted a garden everywhere I’ve lived since then. Over time I’ve learned how much better something tastes when it is fresh from your garden. I missed my first chance at fresh fruit, but I’m hopeful that in the cacophony of Spring, somewhere, a city boy will learn to trust a Strawberry.  

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This Weekend in the Midwest Garden

Start Fall Planting: The soil is warm, but nights are cooler. Now is as good of a time as spring to plant native perennials, shrubs, and trees.

Collect and Save Seeds: If you are gardening on a budget, then you should collect seeds from your perennials to direct sow in October and November. I’m collecting seeds from my Prairie Blazing Star to grow my garden on a budget.

Sow Greens for Fall Harvest: Spinach, arugula, lettuce, and radishes can all be sown now for harvest in the cooler weather.

Plot Notes From My Garden

I spent the last week in Colorado in Denver with friends and hiking in Breckenridge. It was a nice break from work, and I’m excited to come back to good gardening weather.

What I Loved This Week

• Read: Holler: A Graphic Memoir of Rural Resistance

• Watch: How to Remove Turf Grass With a Shovel - This is the method I am using to remove 5% of my lawn this fall. Link to the Shovel.

• Listen: Wild Campuses, Wild Futures - I work on a campus, so I often think of where we fall short on the landscaping. This was a good listen.

• Connect: Denali Sai Nalamalapu on Instagram (Author of the recommended book)

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Until next Thursday,
Ken Welch

About the Author

Ken Welch is a horticulturist and research professional at UW–Madison. He’s drawn to native ecosystems, community gardens, and helping others grow confidence in their craft.

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