Growing in a community garden has changed how I think about sustainability, land, and what nourishes us. This summer, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my community garden here in Chicago—and not just for the kale and dill spilling out of my 4x4 plot.

I come here to weed, to water, to check on the pollinator plants we tucked into the monarch waystation earlier this spring. I come to see what’s changed. But more and more, I come just to be here.

Inside the garden gates, everything feels a little different. We move slower. Conversations stretch. Neighbors linger. There’s a rhythm here that contrasts with the steel and glass just beyond the fence.

And lately, I’ve been thinking about how all of this—the food, the friendships, the feel of the soil—ties into something much larger.

From Global Systems to Hyperlocal Soil

Years ago, I wrote about the intersections of ecological sustainability, poverty, and faith in my book Woven Together: Faith and Justice for the Earth and the Poor. I approached these themes through the lens of global systems—climate policy, food insecurity, environmental degradation.

But this summer, I’ve felt like I’m meeting those ideas all over again—not in theory, but through lived experience. Not in big policy shifts, but in quiet acts of tending.

Pulling pigweed under the hot sun. Swapping tips with a fellow gardener. Buying sourdough from a vendor at the local farmers market who mills grain from nearby fields.

It’s helped me remember that the same systems I once studied on a global scale are also deeply alive right here—in the way I grow food, share land, and connect with neighbors.

Local Food as a Living Practice

Our community gardens and local growers offer more than just vegetables. It offers a living practice of care and connection.

• It nourishes ecosystems, with no-spray, no-till beds and a deliberate planting of herbs and ornamentals that attract pollinators.
• It strengthens local economies, when I buy bread, honey, or seedlings from people I know by name.
• It builds social connections, with every shared harvest, gardening tip, or kind word exchanged over a hose or compost pile.

This is what local food systems look like—not only farmers markets and CSA shares, but neighborhood beds, monarch waystations, and the gentle rhythm of growing something you’ll share.

James, Founder and CEO of Pistils & Pollen® stands near his community garden plot, waiting for this Astra Rose Cream Sunflower to bloom.

Kale is one of the easiest and hardiest plants to grow in community garden plots, since they can go into the ground early in the season (before last threat of frost), tend to stand up well to summer's heat, and can be harvest late into the fall.

Dill is another garden favorite, and not only for its culinary use: dill attracts bees, wasps, and other beneficial insects like ladybugs, which are drawn to the nectar and pollen produced by the dill flowers, and it's a larval host plant for butterflies like Black Swallowtails.

Edibles, Ornamentals, and Ecological Design

Our garden also reminds me of how form and function can live side by side in the garden. In a recent feature for BobVila.com, I shared some thoughts on blending food-producing plants with ornamentals in an intentional way:

“Edibles often need more consistent watering and fertility, so I group plants with similar needs together,” he says. He also avoids chemical treatments, and instead relies on ecological principles like diverse plantings, healthy soil, and building a habitat for beneficial insects.
👉 Read the full article on Ornamentals vs. Edibles: Why Not Both?

In my own plot, I’ve found this balance by tucking flowers like marigolds and sunflowers beside kale and flowering herbs—not just for beauty, but to invite pollinators and support the soil.

It’s a reminder that food-growing spaces don’t have to look like production farms. They can be textured, beautiful, ecologically sound, and shared.

Drifts of native perennials like Purple Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) and Black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta) thrive along the garden's perimeter, offering nourishment for pollinators and delight the eye.

From Soil to Society: What the Garden Keeps Teaching Me

The more time I spend in this garden, the more convinced I am that more sustainable living isn’t something we learn in books alone. It’s something we live—through compost, conversation, and continuity.

• Soil teaches us that what’s unseen (microbes, roots, care) can sometimes be what matters most.
• People show us that community isn’t a product—it’s a practice.
• Land reminds us that what we tend, can tend us back.

Even a 4x4 garden bed can become a sacred space when it’s approached with care and intention. This small plot, surrounded by city noise and concrete, has shown me how deep the roots of community really run when they’re given the space to grow.

This drift of Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) along the perimeter of our community garden is an excellent plant for attracting a wide variety of bees, butterflies, moths, hummingbirds, and other beneficial insects.

Want to Follow Along or Join In?

If you’re curious about exploring these ideas in your own life—or just want to swap plant stories—I’d love for you to join me inside the Pistils & Pollen mobile app.

There, you’ll find:

• Plant care guides and soil mix recipes
• Seasonal how-to videos
• A community of people growing food and encouraging one another
• Member perks, like 15% off my favorite grow lights

👉 Download the Pistils & Pollen App and grow with us, one season at a time.

In a time when global problems can feel overwhelming, this garden reminds me that small, local actions still matter—maybe more than ever.

🌱 James