The Noble Asparagus

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I’d like to hereby reclaim the word “noble” from our domination paradigm. I love the idea of us having a noble height to open to within ourselves, always available, though sometimes not so easy to access. I love that we might see ourselves differently from that vantage point, that we could witness this version of ourselves as an entrusted leader for all parts of us, offering care and protection.

It is this quality of nobility which I relate to in asparagus. Every year, I watch as last year’s tall ferny crop browns in autumn. (Yes! The tops fan out into a fern-like structure when allowed at the end of season.) As aging asparagus grows hollow, standing sentinel in the frost of February, I approach the bed with reverence. Carefully, I snap the tall, dry tops into pieces, laying them on the bed from which they grew. In April, I roll out a sepia carpet of compost over their sleeping remains, and in May, voilà! The noble asparagus youth spring forth from strong roots that have laid dormant through winter.

Asparagus are perennial; no need to replant yearly. These noble plants provide and provide and provide for our family with aplomb, no matter the chill. Think of that. Relying on this abundance is a wonder to us. We are also happy and play a role in its reliability. Our watering, mulching, and picking off asparagus beetles is mirrored back in the care this plant offers us. We love each other!

Which plants do you support who also support you? In the house, perhaps it is an African violet or succulent that provides oxygen as you provide water. In the garden, it might be a vegetable or flower. How does such mutual support feel as you contemplate it now?