When the Garden is Taken: A Story of Loss, Land, and Loving What Grows

I came home to silence.
No soft rustle of phlox or bee balm in the breeze.
No lavender stems reaching for the sun.
Just cut stems, raw earth, and the strange emptiness of something sacred ripped away.

My pollinator and herb gardens, the ones I had tended for the last eight years had been mowed down to bare ground. No notice. No warning. Just gone.

This garden wasn’t something I planted on a whim. It was here before me, a patch of wildness tucked into the side yard of a quiet rental house. When I moved in, I recognized it for what it was, a remnant of something precious. Over time, I added to it. Carefully. Respectfully. Native wildflowers, pollinator plants, and herbs rooted in both tradition and personal medicine.

I also built a separate herb garden in a forgotten, overgrown bed, pouring hours of work into its restoration. These gardens became my peace and my grounding place, a space where I could connect with the seasons, the plants, and the rhythm of the land. They welcomed bees, birds, and quiet moments of stillness. They gave me purpose when everything else felt uncertain, especially over the last two and a half years, as I navigated the pain, frustration, and isolation of a serious shoulder injury and four surgeries. While I fought to heal and struggled through the mess, this garden never asked for anything but presence. It kept showing up, and so did I.

And then, in the span of one weekend, it was all leveled by a landlord who had barely set foot on the property in the 3.5 years since buying it.
He never asked. Never gave notice.
Just acted. Seeing only weeds where I saw a sanctuary.

What Was Lost and Why It Matters

This wasn’t just a case of overgrown grass or unkempt landscaping.

It was a living, breathing ecosystem.
A piece of restored prairie and pollinator garden
A healing garden.
A sanctuary.

Over the past eight years, I had cultivated a diverse mix of native and medicinal plants, early spring bulbs, pollinator favorites, and traditional herbs. Some were already present in the old prairie bed; others I carefully added over time. This space fed bees, butterflies, birds, and people, including me. Many of the herbs grown here found their way into my soaps, lotions, balms, and teas becoming part of the buainess I’ve built with my hands and heart.

Here are just some of the plants that once called this garden home:

Medicinal & Culinary Herbs:
St. John’s Wort, Comfrey, Motherwort, Oregano, Lavender, Sage, Lemon Balm, Catmint, Chocolate Mint, Rosemary, Calendula and a small patch of nettle. 

Prairie Natives & Pollinator Plants:

Bee Balm, Scarlet Bee Balm, Echinacea, Yarrow, Blue Cardinal Flower, Spiderwort, Blue Indigo, Smooth Oxeye, Senna

Perennials & Heirloom Flowers:

Phlox, Mallow, Creeping Bellflower, Oriental Poppies, Hollyhocks, Speedwell, Orange Daylilies, Tiger Lilies, Stella de oro daylily, Roses

Spring Ephemerals & Bulbs:

Crocuses, Daffodils, Snowdrops, Virginia Bluebells, Violets

Edibles & Fruits:

Jerusalem Artichoke, Blackberries, blueberries 

Trees That Remain:

A few Walnut trees, the only survivors

Many of these plants were mature, having been in the ground for years. Most of them had yet to bloom this season, they were just days or weeks from their full expression when they were leveled.

This garden was not just landscaping.

It was habitat. It was medicine.

It was memory. It was love.

What Tenants Need to Know: Gardens and Rental Properties

If you’re a renter and you’ve created a garden, especially one you’ve poured years of labor and love into, please, learn from my story.

Check Your Lease:

• Does it mention landscaping or yard use?
• Are you allowed to plant?
• Who is responsible for maintenance?

Document Your Work:

• Write a timeline of your effort and investment
• Take photos of your garden as it grows
• Save receipts for plants, soil and materials

Know Your Rights:

In most states (including Wisconsin), landlords must provide written notice before entering or making changes to outdoor areas. Even if they own the land, they can’t legally destroy your personal improvements, including gardens, without warning. What happened to me may very well be a violation of tenant rights and quiet enjoyment laws.

If this happens to you:

• Keep records

• Stay calm but firm

• Contact a tenant advocacy group or legal aid office

And remember: you’re not powerless, even when it feels like everything has been ripped from the ground.

💚 Turning Grief into Growth

I won’t lie to you, this broke me.

The hours I spent kneeling in the dirt, the joy of watching plants return each year, the connection to a rhythm deeper than words, it all mattered. And it hurts to lose it this way. But I also know this:

Gardens don’t end when they’re cut down.
They go underground.
They whisper in the roots.
They wait for the right hands to come along again.

I’m documenting the loss, not just emotionally, but practically. Estimating the cost of what was destroyed. Writing a letter to the landlord. Making space to feel it all.

And then, when I’m ready, I’ll plant again.

Maybe not here.
Maybe not in soil I don’t own.
But somewhere.

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🌼 For Fellow Gardeners and Tenants

If you’ve created a garden on rented land:

• Know your rights

• Document your efforts

• Advocate for respectful communication

And if you’ve lost a garden, whether to mowing blades or moving trucks or life’s unpredictability, please know that you’re not alone. The earth remembers. So do the seeds. So do you.

The earth is what we all have in common…
And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our feet, and learn to be at home.”
Wendell Berry

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.
Audrey Hepburn

🌿 Image Use Notice
All of the images on this blog are my own original photography, taken during my herbal work and seasonal wanderings. Others are drawn from a licensed image library. All photos are shared here for inspiration and education only, please do not copy, download, or reuse any images without written permission. Thank you for honoring the time, energy, and spirit woven into this space.