I selected this particular piece

because I am currently in the process of designing my own garden.

Moreover, I have a great affinity for Pollan's outlook on nature.

This article has been extremely informative regarding how to commence planning a garden.

Pollan carefully weighs numerous historical perspectives and systems on the scales of nature.

He astutely points out the crucial fact that humans are indeed an integral part of nature.

However, our culture often separates us from it, viewing us as purely domineering outsiders.

This realization has made me more conscious of the need to approach my garden design with a more holistic and respectful attitude towards nature.

I now understand that my garden should not be just a personal creation but also a harmonious part of the larger natural ecosystem.

By taking into account Pollan's insights, I hope to create a garden that not only brings beauty and joy to my life but also contributes to the well-being of the environment.

I've been a gardener for my entire life, and thus, I was truly overjoyed by Michael Pollan's account of his experiences in gardening. It vividly portrays the never-ending struggles we encounter as nature constantly tries to undo all our efforts. It's an excellent read and a genuine treasure of a meditation on gardens and the human spirit.

After 2012, this has become my third time reading Second Nature. Once more, I'm deeply impressed by Pollan's remarkable ability to seamlessly weave together personal history with the past and present theories, ideas, and politics of gardens. He also explores our ever-changing attitudes towards the land we inhabit and interact with. Certainly, it's not a practical gardening guide, but it is well worth reading for all those who desire to look beyond simply planting a few tomatoes or a couple of casual daisies. It offers a profound and thought-provoking perspective on the relationship between humans and the natural world through the lens of gardening.

It makes us reflect on how our actions in the garden are not just about growing plants but also about our connection to the earth and our place in the larger ecosystem. Pollan's writing is engaging, informative, and inspiring, making Second Nature a must-read for anyone with an interest in gardening or the environment.

This book commences with a discourse on American lawns, which has made me contemplate them in novel ways.

When I was a child, my family relocated to one of the extensive new suburban subdivisions. There were thousands of homes, available in a choice of one of four styles and three paint colors, each situated on its quarter-acre plot. Whatever trees or other natural features that had once been there were entirely absent. The area for miles around had been bulldozed flat like a billiard table.

Throughout that subdivision, all the front yards were open and interconnected; fences and hedges were only present in the back. A child could walk for miles without ever touching the street, which was just as well since there were no sidewalks. The yards were meticulously maintained, with fertilizers for the grass and potent herbicides for the weeds. However, as Michael Pollan astutely points out, these yards were merely for show, symbols indicating that the owners were respectable members of the middle class. The only thing I ever recall actually doing in the front yard was mowing the grass. Any real living activities, such as cookouts, playing catch, or sitting with the dog, all occurred in the back yard. None of this seemed strange to me at the time – it simply was the way things were, and I never gave it a second thought until I read this book. Now, it all appears as a rather peculiar and implausible aspect of middle-class conformity. Even today, you almost never witness people doing anything in their front yards other than maintaining them.

This book is replete with perceptive remarks that transform the reader's perspective. Pollan has a knack for linking the grand philosophy of earth and sky with the practical hard work of maintaining a flourishing garden. One of the chapters, titled "Nature Abhors a Garden," presents a compelling argument for this assertion. The rich and fertile soil welcomes every weed and grass that can deposit a seed and take root. The fruits and vegetables we have cultivated for our enjoyment are precisely the kind of rich nutrient sources that every bird, insect, and critter in the area will be instantly attracted to. Additionally, our plant breeding criteria have emphasized taste or appearance, with hardiness being a secondary consideration. Consequently, most of our prized plants are weaklings that stand no chance against the hardy wild plants unless the gardener is vigilant in his upkeep. As he notes, nature plays the long game and always emerges victorious in the end; every garden plot ultimately succumbs to the wild.

There are numerous things that can go awry between planting and harvest, such that a successful season comes as something of a pleasant surprise. Education and experience are beneficial, but even the most accomplished gardeners are subject to the caprices of nature and must accept their failures. "The gardener learns nothing when his carrots thrive, unless that success is achieved against a backdrop of prior disappointment. Outright success is mute, disaster often eloquent. At least to the gardener who learns how to listen." (p. 121)

Even the unassuming compost heap takes center stage for a few pages of reflection on the transience of life, the age-old adage of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Pollan adopts the perspective that gardening serves as a worthy metaphor for life: hopeful beginnings, sad endings, occasional joys, and frequent disappointments, hard work, and the satisfaction that stems from living and learning.

For the garden is never complete – the weeds you pull today will return tomorrow, a new generation of aphids will step forward to avenge the ones you've slain, and everything you plant – everything – will eventually die. Among the many things the green thumb knows is the solace of the compost pile, where nature, ever accommodating, redeems this season's deaths and disasters in the fresh promise of spring. (p. 132)

The book hinges on Pollan's ability to connect hands-on gardening with the broader perspectives of life and nature. It lags a bit when he strays from the garden and offers advice on formulating new metaphors for man's place in nature. He also provides an interesting插曲 when he discusses how his town addressed storm damage to a historic stand of trees. He contemplates the alternatives from multiple perspectives, although in the end, of course, the solution that was chosen was arrived at behind closed doors without input from the townspeople and served only the interests of the corporate sponsors and one of the town politicians himself. No surprise there.

I haven't read any of Pollan's other books, although I have several on my to-read list. He has an engaging writing style and a remarkable ability to narrate his experiences in the garden, transforming the act of turning spade and hoe into a form of physical therapy for the soul.

Michael Pollan's books have shown an improvement over time. I have read them mostly in reverse chronological order. However, I gave it only one star due to the general creepiness that was hard to overlook. The book seemed to be filled with the metaphor of every plant being a female sex organ. I was hoping to read about gardening, but instead, it was about how he and the literary world, apparently, see a vulva in every rhododendron. It was rather off-putting.

Pollan's writing style may have its merits, but this particular aspect really detracted from the overall experience. I found myself constantly distracted by the repeated use of such metaphors. It made me question the author's intentions and whether he was trying to make a deeper point or simply being gratuitous.

Overall, while I appreciate Pollan's work in other areas, this particular book left a lot to be desired. I would have preferred a more straightforward and less sexually charged exploration of gardening and plants.

Great book again. It's not overly long and had me completely engrossed. You really can't go wrong with a Michael Pollan book. They are sure to make you think and perhaps even change your perspective. This book was no different, despite the seemingly unbelievably dull subject of the philosophy of gardening. I only gave it a chance because of the author, and it truly paid off.

The first chapter delved into the relationship between nature and culture, or perhaps the battle between them. He used the example of wanting to kill the woodchuck and ultimately accepting that we (human culture) are part of nature and not separate from it. The garden, then, becomes a way for us to learn to blend and nurture our relationship with the rest of the living world.

The next chapter, about the classic front lawn, was the complete opposite. After describing how the lawn didn't always exist and there are various philosophical/American themes associated with it, Michael concluded that the lawn is us pointlessly and inefficiently fighting against nature. The meditative aspect of mowing the lawn or the responsibility of maintaining a tidy neighborhood for appearances could be a waste of time and money. Ideally, the lawn should be replaced or work in conjunction with the garden itself.

Compost is an important part of gardening. It somewhat restores the farmer's independence. Gardening has become an act of redemption with nature as farmers increasingly use chemical fertilizers. Tending to the land, or the soil, will strengthen your claim on it. Michael explained that while compost can be used as a fertilizer, its main asset is to improve the quality of the soil.

The differences between America and Britain in terms of not having as beautiful gardens were also discussed.

Roses, or the obsession with them, are a great example of the gardener going against nature or ignoring it for its beauty. Roses are notoriously difficult to keep alive due to factors like pests and diseases. This is because the modern hybrid rose was bred for its looks only.

The idea of a "weed" as a human construct for unwanted plants was explored. Despite their incredible abilities as a life force, another definition could be an aggressive plant that can outcompete cultivated plants. Michael gave the example of planting a willow tree, which some might consider a weed due to its lack of use, cheapness, and rapid growth. He often mentioned or quoted Henry Thoreau, a classic American philosopher about nature. His references were not always as a moral example but to show the contradictions in how we perceive nature.

The chapter on the Green Thumb described the concept of someone having a talent for growing things. There is a sense of empathy needed when growing plants, understanding what they want and need. However, not all of this is instinctive but rather knowledge developed through trial and error. Many experienced farmers or gardeners are not as fazed by failure as they know that failure speaks louder than victories in the garden.

Fall is a busy time in the garden. Outside of the harvest, a lot of work is done with spades and rakes, or on our knees and backs. It can feel like a losing battle, despite what the gardening industry tells us, as we can't deny that winter is coming. The formation of seeds, the activities of animals, fungi, and the processes of decomposition and fermentation all play a role in the fall garden.

Planting a tree can be a daunting task. It might seem like a thankless job that we may not see the end of, and neither will our children likely. Michael thought that the reason not to plant a tree wasn't just logistical but also cultural. The perception of trees has changed throughout history, especially in American history with the influence of modern industry, naive Americans, and Christianity. He also discussed whether trees should have rights and argued against it, thinking it might dilute the rights of humans.

The idea of a garden rather than untouched wilderness was explored. Michael gave the example of the cleanup after a hurricane and whether it should be left or touched. He argued that our preconceived ideas about nature being logical or working like a clock should change to working like the stock exchange. There is no original wilderness that we can refer to, as he gave the example of the great plains being created by fires set by native Americans hundreds of years ago.

Winter was the only chapter that I found a bit too boring, and I didn't really care much about gardening catalogues.

The garden tour provided a more independent look at what we consider a garden. It could be a place, a small patch, or something to look at rather than be in, like a yard. Most garden literature focuses on the plants rather than landscape architecture. In the West, especially America, morality has shifted away from the garden being only for the senses, leading to the creation of the lawn or the mini farm. There seem to be many perhaps unnecessary morals that influence what a garden should look like.

Michael's garden was described, emphasizing the importance of considering the landscape and its history. A detail that I liked was that a good garden often reflects the memories of the gardener. He also compared it to a landscape painting, in the sense of an aesthetically pleasing representation of what we like about the wilderness. He explained some specific human aesthetic qualities of a garden, such as the use of straight lines, which has been criticized by some environmentalists but has little rational basis. Symmetry also adds an order to the garden. Another tip was that your garden should unfold like an itinerary, finishing at the start and having eye catchers.

I truly appreciated the Euro American and personal history that was presented. However, being an organic gardener, a conservationist, and a former farm girl, I could not help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. The author seemed to lump the amazing diversity of styles, cultures, and motivations into the homogenous idea of gardening in "our society". This approach felt very European-American focused.

It completely left out much of our American diversity and history. There are so many different cultures and traditions within the United States that have their own unique ways of gardening and interacting with the land. By only focusing on the Euro American perspective, a large part of the story is being overlooked.

It is important to recognize and celebrate the full range of gardening styles and cultures that exist in our country. This would not only provide a more comprehensive understanding of gardening in America but also honor the contributions of all the different groups that have shaped our horticultural heritage.

Michael Pollan has achieved a significant following in recent times with his books centered around food. However, long before this, he penned his initial attempts at gardening with remarkable humor, covering a diverse range of topics.

From the reasons why Americans have a penchant for lawns and fences to the definition of a weed and the underlying motives, Pollan delves deep. He is intrigued by our connection to nature as manifested through our gardening practices. Consequently, this work serves as both a social history and a gardening memoir.

Pollan possesses impressive intellectual prowess, which is complemented by a sharp sense of humor. His essay, "Made Wild by Pompous Catalogs," stands out as one of the most hilarious and accurate pieces of gardening literature that I have had the privilege of reading. It offers unique insights and perspectives that make it a truly engaging and enjoyable read.

This is a revolutionary book from my perspective. It commences with the author's profound reflections on his grandfather's garden and his father's attitudes towards yard care. From there, it progresses to his own arduous journey of garden-making. Along this path, he delves deep into the rich and fascinating history of gardens, yards, forests, and open spaces, as well as how humans interact with them.

I was particularly enthralled by his chapters on the "meaning" of trees across a wide variety of cultures and "the idea of a garden." As he astutely states, gardens are, ultimately, narratives about us. They are a reflection of our values, our desires, and our relationship with nature.

However, the ending of the book left me with a sense of dissatisfaction. It felt somewhat abrupt and lacking in the depth and resolution that I had come to expect from the rest of the work. Nevertheless, overall, this is an outstanding book that deserves a place on one's shelf. It is a thought-provoking and engaging exploration of the world of gardens and our connection to them.

All Pollan's books delve into the diverse ways people interact with the world surrounding them, encompassing everything from plants to food in general and even space itself. This particular one focuses on gardens and gardening, and it is perhaps the book in which he most explicitly examines man's connection to nature.

The frequently repeated thesis of this work is that all American conceptions of the physical world and our place within it emphasize a division between nature and culture. While this idea has been useful in its various manifestations, from the Puritan establishment to the Wilderness Act, the present requires a more holistic metaphor to guide us. Pollan suggests the garden as this metaphor, a place where humanity must both recognize its impotence in the face of white flies and early frosts, while simultaneously asserting its own history, culture, and opinion to harvest tomatoes, appreciate a dahlia, or feel completely at peace. He explores this concept by looking at different aspects of the conceptual garden and his own real, cultivated plot in Connecticut, dealing with vegetables, lawns, seed catalogs, weeds, and more.

My responses to Pollan's work are strikingly consistent: fascination; admiration for the vast quantity and diversity of historical, literary, and scientific references he can apply in his analysis of nearly anything; yet simultaneous frustration with his stubborn refusal to cite these references in a regular manner; and dissatisfaction with his failure to distinguish the personal flaws of scientists from the legitimacy of science itself. This book, Pollan's first, was published almost 20 years ago and pretty much touches on all these points.

That being said, I also almost always walk away from his books feeling enlightened and, more importantly, convinced. To be honest, he didn't really have to convince me hard that romantic and/or radically preservationist environmentalism isn't a particularly useful philosophy if we aim to survive the next 1000 years with both our world and our culture relatively intact. However, I hadn't given much thought to gardening as a means to a better mindset. Sentences like, "What we need is to confound our metaphors, and the rose can help us do this better than the swamp can" intrigued me, as I'm definitely more of a swamp kind of person.

My main criticism of this book is really more of a query: if the garden is the metaphor that best embodies our relationship with nature, what does it tell us about right and wrong? The garden teaches us to engage with the world rather than dominate or kowtow to it, but it doesn't seem to tell us why we should engage and to what end. For example, in his discussion of a local stand of old-growth pine that was felled in a storm, Pollan describes the conflicting views of the Nature Conservancy landowners (leave it alone, let nature take its course), utilitarians (harvest and sell the wood), and romantics (restore the grove), and then offers some of his own motives for various courses of action. Pollan's garden ethic might encourage us to consider a more diverse range of options beyond entrenched commercial interests or the equally inflexible (and somewhat irrational) position of the Nature Conservancy, but it doesn't actually assist us in choosing one path. There is no single true reason to garden, so garden ethics are not particularly helpful in decision-making. I suppose Pollan might argue that his garden ethic is not meant to be prescriptive as much as informative: the absolutism of our country's childhood and adolescence needs to give way to a more difficult, more self-aware way of life, one that acknowledges that the most important decisions often must declare a new righteousness rather than adhere to an existing code.

Second Nature: A Gardener's Education is presented in a completely conversational style. It starts off as a gardening memoir but quickly branches out into various related musings. The author's personal memories of trial and error in the garden are interesting, but then there are also these perceptive reflections on how industry and social trends have evolved over time and continue to shape both agriculture and ornamental horticulture. The book turns 30 this year, in 2021. In most aspects, I believe it is still highly relevant.

For example, it casually discusses plant hybridization in the pursuit of novelty rather than practicality, the lawn as a symbol of social status, the differences between British and American gardening standards, our relationship with the wilderness, and the survival strategies of weeds.

Although I suspect that some of the things it mentions may no longer exist or have changed significantly since going digital, the chapter on seed catalogues was probably my favorite. Working with a rich collection of them, Pollan's capture of their respective marketing strategies was like a treat for me. I could have read an entire book on this topic.

I used to garden as a child, growing flowers, vegetables, and everything in between, and I can identify with a lot of what Michael Pollan presents in this book. Back then, the excitement of receiving seed catalogues in the mail was only surpassed by the arrival of toy catalogues before Christmas. Now, living in an urban downtown core, my gardening activities have shifted indoors, but Pollan's outdoor inspirations still shine brightly for this reader.

Somewhat slow-paced but not dull, Second Nature: A Gardener's Education now paves the way for me to enjoy The Botany of Desire one day, a subsequent publication that, by all accounts, has more of a wow factor.

I absolutely adored this book!

It truly had a profound impact on me as it made me deeply reflect on what exactly I do in my garden and the reasons behind those actions.

This kind of thought-provoking quality is what makes a book truly great.

It doesn't just provide information or entertainment; it forces you to stop and consider your own behaviors and motives.

I found myself constantly coming back to the ideas presented in the book, applying them to my own gardening practices and seeing how they could enhance the beauty and functionality of my outdoor space.

Overall, I would highly recommend this book to anyone who has an interest in gardening or simply wants to gain a deeper understanding of the choices they make in their daily lives.

The central premise of this book is that humans should inhabit a cultural space that lies between the two extremes of excluding themselves from nature and ruthlessly exploiting it, which are represented by the conservation vs. dominion paradigms.

Interestingly, the sweet spot at the center of the Venn diagram, as it were, is identified as gardening.

Pollan repeatedly emphasizes that humans should accept that they are a part of nature. However, his actions seem to belie this assertion. He plants invasive species and treats the surrounding woods as a terrifying monster that must be beaten back.

Unsurprisingly, it becomes clear that he is driven neither by a true understanding of ecology nor by folk wisdom. Instead, he employs a rather bougie 'Western Civilization' lens that is, at times, unbearably smug and completely out of touch with the real world and the complex relationships that exist within nature.

This approach not only undermines the very message he is trying to convey but also fails to offer any meaningful solutions or perspectives on how humans can truly coexist with nature in a sustainable and harmonious way.