The nomad continually deterritorializes,
in that this person re-produces the environment
at the same time as he or she is produced by it.
- Bruce Janz (p. 395, The Territory is Not the Map)
I am wholly infatuated with the reciprocal philosophy of nomads. The nomad does not have a home, her home is where she dwells. There is an extremely reciprocal nature to this relationship to place: the place where the nomad dwells shapes her, but the nomad herself also shapes the place. The nomad makes use of things she finds at this place, she does not demand that other things should be there or that something is lacking. But in the same breath, she also begins to shape that place, she takes from it what she needs to make it better suit her needs.
Wherever I go, I feel this reciprocal relationship, with things and with the place, especially in the garden.
I traveled over a 1000 km to visit my girlfriend. Our situation is of such a nature that I can work online, but she cannot yet. So for a while, I am rooting myself in new soil, a change of scenery, a change of place.
The implication of this is that I cannot tend to the garden I sculpted over the period of 7 or so years, which turned into a jungle of thousands of plants. I also managed to make countless kilograms of compost, the heart of my whole operation. But you cannot make wireless compost.
Luckily, my girlfriend's property is also of such a nature that I can garden, something she wants to do with me now! So what better way to start a garden than begin with some compost?
The garden has ample space, various lawns, and many trees that continually throw their leaves to the ground. I see the potential of compost everywhere I look.
And this is the interesting thing about gardening, something my brother, a novice gardener, told me:
Don't get too attached
to your garden;
someday you need to move on
but this does not mean
you will lose
your skills; you take that with
you wherever you go.
And this is exactly what the above quote means to me. You go to various places and you will always carry with you the skills you gained from years of doing gardening and other things. And you can then transfer that skill (i) over kilometers and (ii) to other people as well, like my girlfriend!
So we began by raking all of the leaves together into small heaps. We then tossed them in our smallish little black bucket. The physical movement and the sun warmed our winter bodies up so quickly.
Even though it looks like 
We searched even in the nooks and crannies for compostable material. Previously, they found snakes under this tree, so we proceeded with caution.
And then the fun part! We threw everything on a 1-meter by 1-meter heap.
The little square of leaves is the first step toward a new garden. I brought some seeds with me, garlic chives, wild rocket, salad rocket, swiss chard, and amaranth. I will plant these in four weeks' time (because we are going away for a couple of weeks). But in the meantime, we are collecting leaves and everything that we can turn into compost. It will obviously only turn into compost in a long time, but we are looking into the future!
I also started compiling kitchen scraps onto the new heap. All I now need is the grass that will speed up the process and give me some tangible progress.
And that showcases the new journey, the new beginning, with my girlfriend. She loved the wild herbs I used in my cooking at my home, and she told me I needed to grow these at her place and cook with them for her. Some of these herbs you cannot buy, so you need to grow them (from seeds you either get from friends or from growing them yourself).
Hopefully, this adventure plays out well. I am craving these herbs myself! And some of them are quick growers. I know the amaranth grows really quickly. But I will write about this when it happens!
For now, happy gardening, and if you read the whole post, thank you so much! Keep well and stay safe.
The writings and musings are my own, unless hyperlinked and/or stated otherwise. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300.