Greenhouses and Gardens

You are sitting in the Greenhouse District, with the weekly farmer’s market in full swing around you, as a gentle rain falls on Neighborful Station. You are meeting Kerri from the Land Trust for your promised tour of the greenhouses, and you have arrived a few minutes early. You smell the rich scent of breakfast cooking across the way at Yubil, and you listen to the happy chatter of your neighbors as they pick through the eggplant, tomatoes, and fall raspberries on offer from the vendors. As you feel the tiny drops of water in the air land on your bare arms, you take an easy breath.

The offices of the Land Trust are next to the plaza where you have been sitting, housed in a building that has been tacked onto the end of the block of red brick rowhomes. You notice that the building extends up to the level of the greenhouses covering the roofs of the rest of the block. You brush the droplets of water off yourself before you step inside the office door.

“Good morning, You!” Kerri says. “Are you ready for your tour?”

You say, “Yes! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Kerri says, “Me too. I think it’s important for everyone in town to see this.” She gestures toward the corner of the reception area, where an elevator is open and waiting.

When you arrive on the third floor, the elevator opens into a roof deck with a barbecue grill and some comfy chairs and couches. The front wall of the greenhouse is directly in front of you, the doors and windows open to the air. You look around and realize that with the other greenhouses perched on neighboring blocks, you have entered a farm in the treetops, high above the streets of the town.

Kerri says, “Well, you’ve beat me to the first thing I usually say. When we come up here, I always ask people to take a moment and look around the neighborhood.”

You say, “It’s like a whole other world.”

A voice calls out from inside the greenhouse, “And it’s a beautiful world, don’t you think?”

An older woman comes through the doors in a powered wheelchair, saying, “Kerri told me we would have a special guest today. Hello, You. I’m Dr. Sandra.”

Kerri adds, “The founding director of the Land Trust.”

You say, “I’m honored to meet you.”

Dr. Sandra beams at you and says, “The honor is mine. Let me show you around.”

The three of you make your way into the huge greenhouse space, which is buzzing with people harvesting arugula and bell peppers from every possible space and surface in the room. You pause for a moment, leaning against one of the waist-high planting beds standing next to you. As you run your fingers through the rich and damp soil, you take a centering breath.

Dr. Sandra tells you, “Back in the ‘80s, the steel mills were shutting down in the City, and nothing had come yet to replace that work. We worried about keeping folks in their homes, and keeping those homes safe. A couple of us had the idea that we could set up greenhouses on the roofs over here, where we have all the rowhomes. They sent me to The Netherlands to learn how to do greenhouse gardening. I was there for three years, and I came back with my brain on fire.”

Kerri chimes in, “The Land Trust fixed up everyone’s roofs, and then built the greenhouses. With the money from the crops, they kept growing and building and fixing.”

Dr. Sandra continues, “Now we have the equivalent of 100 acres to farm up here. We kept all the homes in good shape, and nobody is getting pushed out because they can’t afford the neighborhood anymore.”

You say, “That’s amazing.”

Dr. Sandra smiles, and then gives you an appraising look. “You know, the best way to learn about us is to jump in. Have you ever picked peppers before?”

You say, “Only in nursery rhymes.”

Dr. Sandra laughs and says, “Well, would you like to learn?”

You say, “Yes, I would.”

Dr. Sandra reaches into a pouch on the side of her wheelchair, and produces two pairs of pruning shears. She says, “Kerri is gonna help us, too,” and hands the shears to both of you. Dr. Sandra demonstrates how to cut a bell pepper at just the right place on its stem. She tells you, “When we finish up this harvest, it will be time to plant kale and spinach for the colder months.”

You spend about an hour harvesting peppers, your hands and fingers finding a comfortable rhythm as they adjust to the work. Dr. Sandra busies herself supervising the motley group of teenagers who are working around you. Before you leave the greenhouse, one of the younger farmers comes up to you with a woven picnic basket full of freshly harvested peppers, saying, “Dr. Sandra wants you to have this.”

You bid farewell to Kerri back on ground level, and you start to make your way back home. You decide to take the Riverwalk along the edge of the Greenhouse District, where you see a ribbon of community garden plots in the space between the boardwalk and the water’s edge. You pause at a produce stand on the Riverwalk, where the first pumpkins and apples of the season are gathered in large wooden bins, and a sign says, “Take what you need.” You unload some of the peppers you have just harvested into an empty bin.

A gardener approaches you, wiping sweat and rain from his brow, and says, “Could you try one of the apples for me? We brought them in from the orchard this morning. I think they’re pretty good, but I’m biased.”

You say, “Yes, I would love to try one.” You pick a Honeycrisp from one of the boxes, feeling its firmness in your hands. You take a bite, and the sweetness of the juice is briefly overwhelming. You savor the taste as you draw in a satisfied breath.

The gardener says, “You know, the Harvest Festival is coming up next week. We’ve got a real bounty to celebrate this year.”

You reply, “It sure seems that way.”