the bum patch

I have been staring at this blank page for about two minutes. Whenever I try to write about this topic, I find I cannot, because it is something very close to me, that affects me very much. I don't really know where to start, so I'm just going to write what comes out off the top of my head.

When we moved into our new place a year ago, I was immediately drawn to the filthy plot of hardened earth on the sidewalk outside our building. It looked like this when we moved in:

Before

Well, actually, it looked much worse than that. The photo at left is after I took out most of the used plastic utensils, old batteries, orange peels, assorted rusty keys, nails, a single razor blade, and a condom wrapper. It took awhile to aerate the dirt and mix in a new layer of top soil. I then bought 500 worms to mix in and planted some flowers. Here is what it looked like after all that:

After

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Unfortunately, those flowers did not prove hardy enough for the foot traffic coming in and out of the parking spot adjacent to the garden. The stone border got kicked to shit and the flowers trampled upon. After a little while of continuing to water & nurture the soil, as well as keeping my worms happy and removing trash daily, I decided it was time to upgrade the garden, which I refer to as "the bum patch" with some hardier succulents and ground cover plants.

My husband rented a car for us, and we visited Home Depot to procure my new babies. I briefly considered planting nothing but cactus, but my conscience wouldn't allow me to actually do so. Instead, I purchased aloe, some ground cover with pretty hot pink flowers, and a succulent of some varietal I could not name. Thus, I cultivated bum patch 2.0 and for about a week, it looked almost as though people were going to respect my little plot. There were still daily deposits of trash - lighters, cigarette butts, styrofoam coffee cups, and animal feces - none of which bothered me, as I have grown accustomed to picking these items out of the patch.

The real offense came this past weekend, when some godless fuck went to the trouble of digging out and stealing my fucking aloe plant. Now, I don't know the street value of aloe or if it can assist in the procurement of crack or crystal meth; nor do I know if this vermin simply decided to take my plant because it was there and not chained down...but really - REALLY - is that REALLY what we have come to as a society? That anything not nailed down is free for the taking? That it is okay to destroy someone else's property, just because it's unguarded?

I know that I should not be upset; I knew this could happen, even that it was highly likely to happen. I even gave my plants a little pep talk when I put them in the ground - I told them that they had been selected for a tough job, because they were the best of the best and I knew they could take it...but now I just feel bad. For humanity. For my stupid abducted plant, which for all I know ended up in a dumpster or a crack house. And it's hard for me to talk about this shit, because no one, EVER, should be this sensitive to the world and I hate that I am this vulnerable.

Here's the current state of my garden:

Bum patch 2.0

I will do what I can to maintain what is left, but in 75 days we will be gone and it will be totally on it's own. While the plants will likely go unwatered and the trash will undoubtedly pile up, my only hope is that the 500 baby worms I mixed in the soil - which are huge fatty's now by the way - will continue to be nourished from my efforts. I did the best that I could do for them, and for this tiny piece of urban landscape. What happens next is no longer in my hands.