Saturday, 13 June 2026

Breathing New Life into Branches, Stems and Vines

The Fruit Tree Grafting Workshop by Dr. Julia Palm-Sinclair

This morning, Julia hosted a fantastic workshop on grafting. It’s clear they know their stuff when it comes to gardening, especially after they showed us a map of their father’s orchard, which features an incredible variety of fruit trees.

Julia demonstrating how to cut a branch

Basic knowledge of grafting is a must for anyone who owns an orchard. Attaching different rootstocks to trees offers massive benefits, enabling them to adapt to environments where they wouldn't normally thrive. In addition, grafting helps control a tree's size. When you successfully connect two different plant tissues, you create what's known as a chimera.

There are several ways to graft, and today Julia demonstrated two techniques (see the pictures below):

Basic Cleft (or V-graft) 

Whip & Tongue graft / Splice graft

 

Making Use of Blackberry Vines

In the afternoon, Susan taught us how to harvest and use blackberry vines. To harvest these vines, first find a large blackberry vine that does not have flowers. The first step is to remove its branches with clippers. Next, carefully remove the spikes on the vine by pushing them to the side. Looking down into the cut vine, you will see a pentagonal shape. Using this shape as a guide, carefully peel the sides of the vine like a banana. Finally, lay out these pieces to dry; once dried, they can be woven into rope. As for the leaves, they can be dried to make tea. What a useful plant!

 

  

Lu cutting a new blackberry vine 

 

Blackberry leaves 

Blackberry skin

 

This type of blackberry that’s commonly seen in BC is called Himalayan blackberry or European blackberry. According to the Invasive Species Council of BC, this plant can crowd out low-growing vegetation and limit the movement of large animals. Himalayan blackberry is designated as a Regional Containment/Control species by the BC Provincial Priority Invasive Species List.

 

Turning Morning Glory Vines Into Beautiful Wreaths

Our team also made several wreaths out of morning glory vines which can be found throughout the garden. We hope the children coming to our workshop absolutely fall in love with them! Take a look at these masterpieces:

 

Wreaths for angels  

Other IMPORTANT Work Today

A group of very green-thumbed UBC planters did an excellent job of planting a nice variety of flowers and plants in a newly created garden bed. It looks fantastic and we are all excited to see it grow:

 

Some of are team's artists did a great job painting this wonderful sign that will help guide all in the garden:


By: Lu and Keegan

Thursday, 11 June 2026

Noticing Little Things - Questioning Big Things

Talking Garden

After giving the garden her morning drink, we settled down for a chat about gardens, the outdoors, and the practical questions we as teachers need to think about when bringing our classroom to the outside. 


Susan gave us two great questions to spark our discussions. 

  1. Why teach the curriculum outside?
  1. How does classroom management look when you take kids outside?


Below is a word cloud with some common answers we had.



Overall teaching outdoors, be it in a garden or forest, provides students an opportunity to move, practice hands on learning, and connect to the wider world they live in. As teachers we can find ways to interweave BC curriculum into the outdoors: Math (patterns. fibonacci), Socials (local Indigenous history), ELA (poetry walks), Science (Ecosystems, life cycles, etc.). These are just a few ways BC Curriculum can be applied to the outdoor setting. The outdoor setting also provides many opportunities for learning life skills such as, assessing risk, using tools, communication, and respecting environment.


Our discussions about classroom management in an outdoor setting focused on the following points: 

  • Establish clear boundaries using highly visible markers such as cones, bunting, or brightly coloured fabric (e.g., scarves). 
  • Develop a consistent outdoor learning routine so that behavioural expectations are clear and predictable. For example, a whistle signal can be used to gain students' attention, while designated learning areas can be clearly marked with cones. 
  • Expectations should be explicitly taught before going outside and reinforced once students are in the outdoor learning space. 
  • Remember that outdoor learning does not always need to involve direct instruction. Meaningful learning can also occur through exploration, play, and discovery. 
  • When appropriate, and once required tasks are completed, allow students opportunities for free movement and active play to support engagement and wellbeing.

Art in the Garden

Mandela

Next, we were introduced to the practice of ephemeral land-based artmaking by creating mandalas from foraged and naturally fallen materials. These artworks are temporary, site specific and are often shaped by natural processes such as weather, erosion, and seasonal change. Below are some of our mandalas.


 
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Tiny Photography

For our final activity this morning, we took close-up photographs of natural subjects and explored how framing and perspective influences meaning. Susan encouraged us to look up close at various subjects like a blade of grass or a section of a path and also to move our body in a different way or lie down and look up. This helped us consider how different viewpoints can change interpretation, and pay attention to what is included and excluded from an image. 









Work Party!!!!

Giving the Garden a Manicure

Keegan and Lu continued their hard work on the garden paths today. They widened them and added re-wood chipping the old paths. Katie and I (Alex) also began trimming the birch tree to free up some space by the benches. 

                                                            


Connecting to yesterday’s explorations of manicured vs decolonized gardens, brought up the question of where we should intervene and where to leave be. Do we dig an inch or two to the side of the pathways? Or do those plants serve a purpose and are best left alone? Is it right to trim the branches off the tree? How much would be too much? What is the balance we are wanting to strike?


A Battle for Glory: Tedious task turned joyful. 

Our battle against the morning glory (Bindweed) continued today. We started gathering more of the weed from some of the garden's trees and green spaces. Then many of us took a break from the afternoon sun underneath the tent to prepare the bindweed for drying. This acted as a moment of community building, as while the morning glory kept our hands busy, we were able to chat, unpack our practicums, and some of the burdens and bright spots of the program so far. 



    


As a teacher, I found myself considering how we go about creating community in the classroom. So often I feel like it is reduced to icebreakers, but it is in the continuous small moments that bring people together. What routines can we build into our classrooms? What moments of spontaneity do we allow to flourish, then cultivate?


Reclamation of the Chives (and Rosemary)

In weeks past, a chive bandit had made away with all the garden’s chives; however, after digging past the buttercups, we discovered some chives! We harvested them and are beginning to cut back the buttercups so the remaining chives can hopefully start thriving. 


We are still debating whether to cut down the buttercups or dig out the roots as well, and risk potentially damaging the remaining chives. To be continued… 



A rosemary bush was also reclaimed today. Hiding behind a flourishing lemon balm and being choked by the ever-grasping morning glory, the rosemary bush was thriving. With some hard work, it became visible to the rest of the garden.


Today’s Harvest

  • Chives
  • Some raspberries that were quickly eaten
  • Lemon balm cuttings for future tea making
  • Lemon balm plant

Wednesday, 10 June 2026

Walking Through Stories: From the Nitobe Memorial Garden to the Orchard Garden

Our day began with a visit to the Nitobe Memorial Garden, a place that invites you to slow down, observe, and reflect. Before exploring the garden itself, we learned about Dr. Inazo Nitobe, the garden's namesake. As an agriculturalist and a member of the League of Nations, Dr. Nitobe worked to build connections, as a bridge, between Japan and Canada. The garden, which opened in 1960, serves as a living reflection of that bridge, blending traditional Japanese garden design with the biodiversity of the West Coast.

A lantern dedicated to Dr. Inazo Nitobe

One of the most fascinating aspects of the garden was the way it was designed to be experienced. We moved through it in a counterclockwise journey that mirrored the stages of life. We began in "babyland," surrounded by towering cedar and Douglas fir trees and a large lantern standing quietly among them. From there, we moved through a youthful section featuring a bridge symbolizing a marriage that comes too early, before eventually arriving at a second bridge representing a marriage at an appropriate age and stage of life.

Walking through the garden felt less like moving through a landscape and more like moving through a story.

A vista featuring the Mother lantern by the pond

So... What Makes a Garden a Garden?

At the end of our visit, we gathered to discuss the question: What makes a garden a garden?

Throughout our practicum, we have encountered many different kinds of gardens. Some, like the Nitobe Memorial Garden, are highly curated and carefully maintained. Others, like the guerrilla garden, emerge through circumstance, adaptation, and community relationships.

Despite their differences, several common threads emerged. Every garden seems to be guided by some form of intention or philosophy. Gardens are also deeply relational spaces, shaped by connections between plants, between humans and plants, and between plants and the insects and animals that share the space. We noticed that every garden contains layers of life interacting with one another, creating a dynamic ecosystem rather than a collection of individual species.

Most importantly, every garden tells a story.

Some stories are carefully designed, like the life journey represented at Nitobe. Others emerge gradually through years of growth, change, and relationship. Either way, gardens seem to invite us to pay attention to the stories and narratives unfolding around us.

Leaves of a Japanese maple

Back to the Orchard

After our morning of observation and reflection, we returned to the orchard garden and traded contemplation for action.

Megan paints new life into old signs

The afternoon was filled with hands-on work. We spread wood chips along pathways, prepared a new garden bed, and rejuvenated old signs for the guerilla garden. We also gathered morning glory vines to dry and hopefully weave with, giving a new purpose to a plant that has become a familiar character in our garden adventures.

Lu and Keegan on wood chip duty
Jillian gathering morning glory

Many of us tackled patches of buttercups throughout the garden. As we carefully removed them, hidden treasures began to emerge. Beneath the dense growth we discovered blueberry bushes, currants, and a pair of snails tucked away in the cool soil. Talk about currant events!

It's amazing how often gardening feels like archaeology. Pull one plant away and suddenly an entirely different layer of life is revealed underneath.

Discovering currants!

Snails, Slugs, and Inquiry bugs…

As often happens in the garden, our work generated as many questions as answers. What exactly do snails eat? How are snails and slugs related? What role do they play within the garden ecosystem?

How many snails can you spot?

These kinds of questions have become one of my favourite parts of our time in the garden, and really highlight the importance of hands-on learning. A task that begins as simple weeding can quickly become an investigation into ecology, biodiversity, and the interconnectedness of living things. The garden has a way of turning everyday observations into opportunities for discovery.

By the end of the day, we had moved between two very different garden spaces: one carefully designed to tell a story through landscape and symbolism, and another actively evolving through the work of plants, people, insects, and weather. Yet both experiences reinforced a similar idea. Gardens are not simply collections of plants, they are living communities shaped by relationships, intentions, and stories.

And the more time we spend in them, the more stories we begin to notice.


By: Katie and Kirstin


Tuesday, 9 June 2026

Poetry Walk

The poetry walk began with a stop outside the SCARFE building, a very familiar place for all of us where we had spent many hours together. There, we discussed the many ways different beings communicate and used those ideas as inspiration for our first poem.

 

A poem by Kirsten, “Learning from Birds”

Hummingbirds sing their songs as the teachers run along 
Birds of the air fly without a care but teachers do not dare to slow down and breathe in the summer air 
Winged creatures understand the value of leisure however teachers lose this comprehension under all their pressures and stressors 
May teachers be able to learn from these birds by finding a balance between slowing down to a birds pace and keeping up with the teacher race


A poem by Susan, "Grip (a Fib poem)"

This Bittersweet Vine grips Brutal stone wall For dear life, holding tight To the ragged surface becoming soil becoming humus Human made stone, concrete poem, tender green leaves breaking down the harsh verticals Making space for the green ephemeral lives of spring Making a place for us To live afresh Gripping tightly Leaning Sunward.

Our second stop was a children's garden that had fallen into some neglect. Despite this, we could still see remnants of what had once been planted there, including crab apples, blueberries, and other edible plants. This space inspired us to create a list poem based on our observations and the stories the garden seemed to hold.


Blueberries slowly ripening




A poem by Ladan



A poem by Lu: 

Birds: This is a good place to rest.  
Arbutus: You’re welcome to build your own nest.  
Birds: Oh, may I invite some of my guests?  
Arbutus: Of course! In nature, kindness is the best!
'


“The Heart of Scarfe” by Ladan:

Hidden around the corner of the Scarfe Building lies the Invisible Garden—a quiet space that many walk past without ever noticing. Yet, standing there, like the true heart of Scarfe. Time seems to slow as nature quietly reclaims the space, and every weathered bench and winding path tells a story waiting to be heard.

On a wall worn by years of rain and sunlight, a quote by Peabody catches the eye: "Education is a debt due from the present to future generations." Though the words have faded, their message remains powerful. Education is more than a profession or a field of study; it is a promise and a commitment.


As I looked around the garden, I couldn't help but see a reflection of that promise. The benches sit empty, waiting for visitors, and the garden itself seems forgotten. Yet its spirit remains alive. There is something in the stillness that feels like a gentle invitation, a reminder not to forget the values that brought us here in the first place.



Another stop took us to an area beside the SCARFE building where we observed examples of guerrilla gardening. This was particularly inspiring, as we discovered two Katsura trees, known for their leaves' sweet scent, often compared to cotton candy or strawberries. These trees were later rescued by our team and brought back to the orchard garden to be replanted.


A poem by Katie



Katsura tree

Throughout the walk, we had opportunities to slow down, observe carefully, and engage our senses. Rather than focusing on productivity or completing tasks, we were encouraged to notice the world around us and connect with it more deeply. It felt like a meaningful experience that allowed us to become more in touch with both ourselves and our surroundings.


In the afternoon, we participated in a work party in the garden. Together, we removed a large patch of buttercups and other deeply rooted plants, potted and replanted the rescued Katsura trees, cleared pathways, organized the shed, and planted seedlings. Throughout the day, we experienced sunshine, heavy rain, and sunshine again, yet our spirits remained high. We approached each task with enthusiasm and enjoyed spending time working together outdoors.



During the walk, I found myself thinking about the balance between ensuring students develop concrete, measurable skills while also creating space for spontaneity, play, and exploration. I saw many parallels between gardening and teaching, particularly in the tension between careful planning and allowing things to unfold naturally. In the garden, there was a focus on observing what the plants needed and responding accordingly rather than imposing a rigid plan. This reminded me of educational approaches such as Montessori, where educators follow students' interests and developmental cues while still providing structure and intentional guidance. The goal is not to simply let children do whatever they want, but rather to pay close attention to how they are growing and learning and to support that process thoughtfully.



I saw this idea reflected in the guerrilla garden, where plants had emerged and flourished in unexpected spaces. It made me think about how learning often happens in the small moments in between planned lessons—in conversations, observations, discoveries, and experiences that cannot always be predicted. The walk highlighted the value of creating environments where growth can occur organically while still holding a sense of purpose and care.


By Kat & Ladan