“In gardens, beauty is a by-product. The main business is sex and death.” ~Sam Llewelyn

When I first read Sam Llewelyn’s quote about gardens it kind of threw me, but he’s right. Amidst all the growing and greenery is death - and lots of it. It’s what life in the garden is about - reproduction, life and death. There are the hard-shelled wings of black beetles that my skink (a lizard) leaves scattered throughout the garden. I don’t see him feeding - only the undigested carnage of his work the morning after. He runs through the garden, ducking behind an old board when he sees me coming. I glimpse him only as he makes a mad dash out of the garden to the safety of the creek that runs only 10 feet away. He is at risk from the hawks that screech overhead, or that perch in the nearby forest to study my little garden looking for furry snacks themselves. But he is the predator for all the beetles, bees and wasps that venture into the vegetable jungle. He is immune to their stings because his lizard armor - the scales that cover him - are so tightly fit together no stinger can penetrate them.

As I went to pull up lettuce for a salad the other day I saw this fellow in the photo above. This is a wolf spider, poised to capture the butterflies and insects seeking water that was cupped in the hollows of the leaves. There was also a snake, slithering among the green beans, and above him on the leaves, a ladybug - relentless in her trek over each leaf in search of aphids. The tiny frogs (about the size of my thumbnail) only come out at night, although I often hear them at dusk. They come to feed on the insects, the mosquitoes and other creatures that crawl or fly up from the creek each night. There are bats and birds and butterflies, buzzing, flying, crawling, creeping and hopping things. And they are drawn to my garden like hummingbirds to sugar. And it makes my garden feel and look so alive and vibrant!

They’re all creatures who come to my garden to feast on each other, or on the things that would feast on my vegetables. And I’m glad they’re there. My garden provides them with a food source, and they protect it for me.

It’s eat or be eaten - a high-stress life with severe consequences. I’m not even immune. The bees and wasps that hover are a threat. And if I reach down among the leaves without looking those same snakes and spiders are there to remind me that I too am a creature on the food chain. Mosquitoes fear no one and will bite at every opportunity.

As diverse as they are, my garden couldn’t function without all of them. They each have their place on the food chain and in the garden. I thought about all the creatures I don’t like, or that I keep my distance from. While spiders make me fearful, and I slowly back up when the bees and wasps are buzzing, and I use a stick to part the leaves to ensure my snake friend isn’t within striking distance, I’m still glad they’re in my garden.

Then I thought about my life. It’s a kind of garden too. Some of the people in it are snakes and spiders, others are ladybugs and frogs, or butterflies and songbirds. They’re all feeding and interacting with each other in some way to stay alive - to survive. Some are scary and more aggressive than others. Some I see as “better” or “worse” than others - like I love the ladybugs and avoid the spiders because of my fear of each - even though ladybugs are as fiercely violent as the spiders - and just as carnivorous! I don’t like all the creatures - but I know they balance the garden. They have their purpose. Who and what they are makes it possible for me to benefit on other levels.

Life is a garden. We each have a role. What is yours?