Alexander McLauchlan
“Our findings also suggest that community gardens, particularly in newer suburban developments, reflect a shift in the utopian visions of postsuburban planning away from a consumerist lifestyle to a newer one that enables access to nature and sustained social connections among residents.” [1]
I: At Satinflower Gardens
I’m struck by the vastness. Just thirty or so minutes out from Victoria proper, Satinflower Gardens emerges from a right-hand turn in Metchosin. The acres of growing space give way to a view unlike anything you’d find in town; hills and farmland and greenery unchallenged.
We introduce ourselves, and before long Kristen is showing us the seed library. The names are great: Forbes (fifty best seeds under fifty!), camas (common, greater, lesser, and death), Blue-Eyed Mary, Mountain Sneezeweed, Checkermallows. And beyond the fun nomenclature, it isn’t difficult to understand how people fall in love with this work. Something is growing alongside the plants—a genuine belief in nature’s power to restore our oft-fractured social makeup. The development projects just down the road from here are almost farcical when juxtaposed with Satinflower. It’s like watching two worlds operating on different speeds.
Chewing on some Nodding onion and contemplating its softness, we stand around a pond, trying to make out any signs of Pacific Forest Frogs. What a dream it’d be to wake up to their cries instead of an excavator making room for some long-delayed bike lane, as is the case just outside my house. Carelessly, I stumble backwards and step on some prunella vulgaris—common name Heal-all—and feel like a murderer. This transgression won’t leave the back of my mind when surveying.
II: At UVic Family Housing
Let’s see. There are 181 units in total. Getting to the apartment-style arrangements is beyond us at the moment, so we can just start with the townhouses. Jess and I move counter-clockwise, beginning with the hundreds, two-hundreds, and so on. I had forgotten how much fun this was. Assuming someone is a) home, and b) up to talking, it’s a thrill to watch their face light up when we explain the project. Up to ten raised garden beds (fenced, to stop deer and raccoons), designed to alleviate both the cost and the monotony of options on campus. It doesn’t hurt that a lot of residents are already gardeners, and we get no outright refusals. A law student in continuing education beams at me as he moves aside to reveal a series of potted plants sitting in his back patio. Sometimes, I make a fool of myself: Upon asking one resident if he’d support the initiative, I’m asked to turn around and bask in the aura of his three tomato plants. “There’s your answer.”
Understandably, not everyone wants to give out a last name, and understandably, not everyone feels comfortable speaking about a survey at all. But it’s still fun to shoot the shit. There are people from Germany, and Taiwan, and Hong Kong, and Jamaica, and Iran, and the Netherlands, and they’ve almost all got stories to share about gardening. A pattern begins to emerge around the two-thousands: I ring the doorbell, and the curtain is pulled back just enough for some elementary-aged eyes to peek back at us. The door is opened just a crack, and a small voice asks something to the effect of “who are you.” A parent arrives, gives us a smile, and asks what’s up.
And it’s not just casual interest. One resident sounds exhausted when she explains to me that, in the five years she’s been here, she has not once been able to secure her own plot at the CCG. Another tells me he had a plot for a while, but was discouraged by the effort required to keep it going when he would have rather done the work just outside his doorstep. These are the problems we’re here to fix.
Stopping for a smoke at the development’s outskirts, I’m struck by just how communal the place already feels: Playgrounds, a basketball court, common areas; I hadn’t spent a lot of time here, but always assumed the ambiance would be similar to cluster housing used by students. This is different, people make their lives in family housing. What’s the harm in some new gardens? Turning up the path, southwards and towards the last batch of townhouses, a cat emerges from the forest and brushes up against my calf. Wind hits the leaves like chimes, and sunlight rips across the grass as clouds break. Spring has arrived.
[1] Toda and Lowe, “Gardens in a postsuburban region: Community garden governance and ethos in Orange County,” 2021








