When we moved to our little homestead last October, one of the very first things we did was stick garlic in the ground. Mike tilled up a patch of earth near the house, which ended up being the future site of our “kitchen garden” {but we were hardly thinking about that then- we just needed a sunny spot for the garlic to grow}, and we planted the bulbs and covered them thickly with straw for their long winter sleep.

We spent the winter unpacking all our belongings and finding spots for them in our new home, unwrapping and cherishing our wedding gifts, visiting with old friends and making new friends in our new town, and sitting cozily around the woodstove day-dreaming about all the projects we wanted to tackle come spring.

In spring, we were delighted to see little green garlic shoots sticking up through the straw and snow. All summer long we have watched those shoots get longer and longer, and finally this week it was time to pull them up.

We husked them to get the dirty outer layers of paper off, hung them to dry in the shady screened-in porch, and stepped back to admire our very first garlic harvest.

For garlic-lovers like us, there are few things prettier than a garland of fresh garlic hanging in your house.

We have enough to last us the year. And considering that we spent a small fortune staying stocked with organic garlic from the food co-op this year, it’s extremely nice to know that our favorite flavor-adder for almost every meal is so easy to grow.

It’s a little mind-boggling to us that we have been here long enough to see the fruits of our labor from almost a year ago. This place still feels so new to us, and everything that happens is happening for the first time.

I can’t imagine what a garlic harvest will feel like in 20 years, when it’s old news. My guess is that it’ll be no less amazing than it is this time. Gifts from the earth never cease to inspire gratitude and wonder in their recipients {and I have that on authority from some very veteran gardeners.}