First Ground Community Garden
A garden that gives itself away.
Robin Wall Kimmerer writes that the serviceberry never hoards its fruit. It gives it, and the abundance keeps moving. I'm building a real garden around that idea, one designed to give its harvest, its plants, and its seeds onward instead of keeping them. The honest question is whether people will give to something whose whole purpose is to give itself away. Come find out with me.
It started with a download, and four trees I never planted.
A while back I got a clear, inner knowing that one day I'd own a farm. This message coincided with my taking a step back from a career in public health, founding Farm Fresh Glow, and developing relationships with farms for local sourcing and summer programming. As I processed the message I so clearly received, I was perplexed. I saw no path to owning a farm any time soon. Then I found the lesson standing in my own yard. As I walked my own modest property, I found four serviceberry trees growing along the fence line, mature, fruiting, and there the whole time I wasn't looking.
Robin Wall Kimmerer has written a whole book about that tree, about gifts and the abundance already around us. Finding the trees I was too busy to see was a homecoming to nature, and to a way of thinking I had somehow never turned on my own ground.
So instead of waiting to buy a farm, I decided to learn the land I already had. I tested the soil, mapped the light and the water, and designed a real garden for my Baltimore backyard.
Then I wanted to try something with it. Not to grow a supply of things to sell, but to see if a garden could live by the gift economy, giving more than it keeps. This page is that experiment, and here is exactly what comes back.
What the garden gives away.
This is the point of the whole thing, so I want to be specific about it. Not a vague idea of generosity, the actual streams, and where each one goes.
The harvest, season by season
Some feeds the camp kids' lunches, cooked from that morning's field. Some goes to neighbors.
Kept for the whole year
The harvest is freeze-dried rather than left to spoil, so fruit, herbs, and flowers hold nearly their full color and potency and keep for years without refrigeration. A July picking becomes tea blends the camp kids carry home in December. It is what lets a summer garden give in every season.
Plants passed on
The perennials get divided, coral bells, hostas, iris, and mountain mint split into new plants. Cuttings of mint, honeysuckle, and fig get rooted. Those become free plants for other people to start their own gardens.
Seeds shared
Seed saved from the coneflower, calendula, chamomile, aster, and vegetables, dried, packeted, and given away, to the camp kids to take home, to neighbors, and to a local seed swap.
Camp Serviceberry
The biggest thing the garden feeds: a free, full-scholarship farm camp for kids, built on the same soil, skin, and self the garden is. Read about it →
Back to the living world
The garden leans on plants native to Maryland, so it feeds the bees, butterflies, and birds that belong here. Coneflower and aster and goldenrod for the pollinators, berries and seedheads for the birds. It gives back to the life in your own yard, not only to people. (The rain garden also filters the rain before it drains away.)
Camp Serviceberry
Where soil, skin, and self take root in community.
A free, full-scholarship three-day summer day camp for kids, on a farm. They get their hands in the soil and learn what's growing. They cook what the field gives that morning. They learn how their skin works, how chamomile calms it and what lavender does, and make small things to give away.
On the last night, they host the people who love them and serve them dinner from the garden. A child giving a feast away. That is the gift economy completing its circle.
The garden is what makes it possible. Its produce and herbs go into the camp kitchen. Its cuttings and seeds go home in the kids' hands. Everything I figure out growing it is what I have to teach.
Part of every gift to this page keeps the camp free, so that no child is turned away over money.
Curious about next summer? See the flyer from the last camp to get a feel for the three days, and reach out to learn more.
The garden it all comes from.
Six places, each drawn as a planting plan with every plant in its place. These renders show what they become at peak season.






A gift economy runs both ways.
If the garden only takes money and gives back plants, that isn't a circle. So gifts in kind are welcome, and some of them are worth more than a check. Here is what the garden actually needs.
Plants and divisions
A split off your coral bells, hostas, iris, ferns, or coneflower. The same plants this garden will divide and pass on to someone else in a few years.
Seeds you saved
Anything native to Maryland, and anything you have too much of. Coneflower, aster, calendula, chamomile, vegetables.
Wood, chips, and logs
Lumber for the raised beds. Arborist wood chips for the paths. Hardwood logs, oak or maple, for growing shiitake.
Compost and soil
Finished compost, leaf mold, or a load of good soil. The beds need several cubic yards, and it is the largest single cost.
Tools and pots
Spare hand tools, a wheelbarrow, pruners, terracotta pots, a bench that wants a new home.
Hands and knowledge
An afternoon of digging. A lesson from someone who has done this longer. Time given is the oldest gift there is.
Tell me what you have before you send it, so nothing is wasted and everything finds a bed.
See the full list of what the garden needs →

Give to a garden that gives itself away.
I'm honestly not sure people give to something whose whole purpose is to give itself away. The not-knowing is the point. Your gift becomes fruit, herbs, and mushrooms preserved and shared, plants and seeds passed on, and a free farm camp where kids learn, cook, and host a feast.
Planted in stages, from this summer through fall, and onward from there.
A gift to the ground
Plants, seeds, soil, beds, tools. It goes straight into the garden and comes back out as everything on this page.
Give onceSubscribe to the letters
Every other week I write from the garden: what came up, what died, what I got wrong, and what the ground is teaching. Free for anyone who wants it. A paid subscription is what carries the ground and the hours.
Coming soonA seat at Camp Serviceberry
Send your gift straight to the camp and keep a child's place at the harvest table free.
Coming soonAbout the land, and the mortgage on it
Here is the part these projects usually leave out. The ground this garden grows on is mortgaged ground. I pay for it every month. I did not buy land for a community garden, I am turning the land I already had into one, and I happen to live on it.
So a gift here is not paying for someone's house. It is helping carry the piece of land the garden sits on, and buying the hours it takes to tend it, save the seed, dry the herbs, and teach the kids. I will be straight with you about the awkward part too: it is still my house, and a mortgage builds my equity. That is exactly why a permanent home for this work, on land nobody has to make payments on, matters so much.
Farm Fresh Glow is my business and it pays my bills. First Ground is the part I want to give away. The letters I write from the garden are free to anyone who wants them, and the people who choose to pay for them are the ones carrying the ground.
A gift of land
In upstate New York there is a place called Sand River Community Farm. Adam Wilson stopped selling food on the first day of the pandemic and never started again. Everything the farm grows, every vegetable, every container of soup, is now offered as a gift to anyone who is hungry for any reason.
That was only possible because a donor gave him around half a million dollars, placed in a trust, to buy a long-abandoned farmhouse. One gift of land turned an idea into a working community farm. It is the reason I am willing to say this out loud.
If you have land, a few acres, a lot, a field going unused, that could become a farm and a permanent home for First Ground and Camp Serviceberry, I would like to hear from you.
Start a conversation about landSecure giving through your chosen platform. Or give something other than money.