If you’ve ever wanted a garden that basically grows itself while you sip iced coffee and pretend you’re doing something productive, you need to watch the Back to Eden documentary. I watched it one night when I couldn’t sleep, and by the end, I was ready to cover my entire yard in wood chips like a crazy person. And I did.
The idea is simple—God already figured out how to make good soil; we’re just the ones who keep messing it up. The guy in the film (Paul something—total soil whisperer) says to mimic nature. In nature, nothing is bare. The ground’s always covered—leaves, twigs, mulch, whatever. It keeps moisture in, feeds the earth, and, best of all, means way less weeding. Less. Weeding. You had me at hello.
So I tried it. Josh thought I’d lost it, dumping wood chips everywhere like some kind of suburban lumberjack. Ethan helped for five minutes before declaring it “boring” and running off to build a mud fort, which somehow used half my mulch pile. But a few months later—magic. The ground turned soft and rich, like chocolate cake. The plants looked happier, the worms came back, and I didn’t have to drag a hose around every day.
I don’t baby my garden anymore. I feed the soil, and the soil feeds everything else. It’s a slower kind of gardening—less fuss, more faith. You just trust that the layers are doing their thing underground. It feels good, too, knowing I’m working with nature instead of constantly fighting it.
Now, when I walk through my garden barefoot, the earth feels alive—cool, crumbly, and full of promise. I can smell it, that sweet mix of wood, rain, and something ancient. Josh won’t admit it, but even he said the tomatoes taste better. Ethan calls it “lazy gardening,” which—yeah, maybe. But if being lazy means less weeding, more worms, and soil that smells like heaven, then I’m fine with that title.
It’s funny—sometimes the best thing you can do for your garden is step back, trust the process, and let nature handle the details. Turns out she’s been doing it just fine without us.