Reaping the Benefits of an Unproductive Garden

BAYOU HEALTH BY SHANNON DAHLUM, FDN-P

I was fortunate to grow up in a household that came from a long line of avid gardeners. My mom, grandmother and aunts all kept large gardens and the vegetables from their harvests fed our family throughout the year. In the summers, we had vine ripened, beefy tomatoes and the juiciest, sweetest cantaloupe I’ve ever tasted.  As a child, I would sit in the yard (albeit, sweating and complaining) with these women and shell peas, string beans, and cut corn kernels off the cobs to prepare them for canning or freezing so they could continue to grace our tables until the following summer’s harvest. Back then, I had no idea how special this was and how spoiled my taste buds had grown to the flavor of these fresh, homegrown foods. It wasn’t until I bought my first “tomato” at the grocery store in college that I realized mass produced vegetables and home grown varieties simply were not the same. That pale, mealy, flavorless thing could not possibly have been a tomato.

The color and flavor of fruits and vegetables are certainly a reflection of the nutrients contained within them. Those bright red vine ripened tomatoes from my grandmother’s garden were so vibrant and flavorful thanks to their richness in lycopene, beta- carotene, potassium and magnesium. The mass produced varieties we typically find in stores are far lower in nutrient density because they’ve been picked before ripening, have endured long transit times and are grown in soils devoid of nutrient diversity.   In an attempt to satisfy my craving for meaty, juicy summer tomatoes, I plant a couple of tomato plants in a small garden plot in my yard every spring.  I’ve had varying degrees of success. Some years, I’ve enjoyed plates full of sliced tomatoes with fresh basil and olive oil until the insides of my cheeks were raw.  Other years, I’ve watched helplessly as my plants were devoured by various infestations.  Unlike the women before me who mastered the art of working the soil, my meager garden is mostly just tended to with good intention and a bit of prayer.  Sometimes this works, but often it doesn’t. One thing I have learned, though, is that the value of this little garden comes from so much more than the fruit it does or doesn’t bear.

My grandmother once told me that digging in the dirt was good for the soul, and this really stuck with me.  Most avid gardeners proclaim the mental health benefits of spending time working the soil, and even studies have proven this to be the case. A meta-analysis published in the Journal of Preventive Medicine Reports found that gardening reduced depression and anxiety, while increasing satisfaction and quality of life. Interestingly, the smell of dirt likely plays a significant role in this effect.

Geosmin is the chemical compound present in soil that gives it that characteristically “earthy” scent. The human nose is particularly sensitive to it, and can detect it in the air in concentrations as low as 5 parts per trillion.  It’s been theorized that the ability to detect geosmin is an evolutionary trait that may once have helped us identify environments rich in essential microbes. Like other aromas that enter our noses, the scent travels directly to the brain’s emotion and memory centers. This explains why smells often trigger emotional reactions or memories of past experiences better than our other senses can. Experiencing the scent of soil can, therefore, tap into neurological pathways linked to mood and nervous system function.  Even brief exposures to the scent of soil has been found to lower heart rate; an indication of increased parasympathetic nervous system activity and diminished stress.

Coming into direct contact with the dirt also exposes us to various soil microbes, which provides another layer of potential health benefits. Some studies suggest that being in contact with these microbes may be another factor that enhances mental health, while also contributing to strengthened immunity. The exposure is believed to enhance the microbial diversity within our bodies, which positively impacts overall well-being in a myriad of ways.

There have been many summers that I’ve been left disappointed at the lack of production in my little garden. I’ve learned, however, that an unproductive garden doesn’t equate to a failed garden.  Maybe I didn’t reap the reward of those meaty tomatoes I’d hoped for, but I did indeed experience the benefits of getting out there and spending time in the dirt. Although that dirt may not have yielded nutrient dense fruits to nourish my body, the time spend in that garden was deeply nutritious for my soul.