The May When Everyone Started Growing Something
By Autumn Prairie Pumpkins
This May feels different on the patch. Harder to explain than point at, but it is there in the small things: the neighbor two blocks over who put in a raised bed last weekend, the friend texting to ask when to plant squash, the inbox full of first-time seed order questions from people who have never grown anything before.
Something is shifting. More people are growing food at home this year than have in a long time. The reasons are different for everyone. For some it is the price of groceries. For others it is a quiet need to feel connected to where food comes from, to hold something in the ground that will actually feed them. For a few, it is just that they finally have a yard and a Saturday and a bag of seeds that someone gave them, and this seemed like the moment.
Whatever the reason, they are planting. And that matters.
What the Ground Knows That We Keep Re-Learning
The garden does not care why you showed up. It just needs you to show up. The soil is the same forgiving, patient medium it always was, and the seeds still do most of the work once you give them the conditions they need. A seed in good earth, with water and sun, finds its way. That is not a metaphor. That is just how it works.
There is something worth sitting with in that simplicity. At a time when a lot of things feel complicated and beyond influence, a garden is a place where effort and outcome still line up. You water the plant, the plant grows. You build the soil, the yield improves. You save the seeds, next year's garden starts a little closer to what you actually want.
Heirloom varieties are part of that story. The moschata pumpkins we grow at Autumn Prairie carry genetics shaped by thousands of years of farmers making exactly this kind of choice: save the seed from the best fruit, plant it next year, let the variety adapt to the place. That conversation between farmer and seed is the oldest agricultural act there is, and growing food at home keeps it alive in a way that buying a can of puree simply does not.
A Garden Is Also a Relationship with Your Neighborhood
There is a version of home growing that is purely transactional. You put in the seeds, you harvest the food, you move on. Nothing wrong with it. But most people who grow food for a few seasons find it turns into something more porous than that.
The tomato you grew more of than you needed ends up on your neighbor's porch. The seed catalog becomes a conversation at the community garden. The question about cucumber beetles becomes a thread that pulls in three different people with three different approaches, and you try all of them. Growing food at home has always had this quality of opening outward, even when it starts as a solitary project.
That is true on the Kansas prairie now as it was before there were seed catalogs. The first gardens here were community acts by necessity. Food did not grow itself in isolation. It was shared knowledge, shared labor, shared seed. That texture is still there if you look for it.
What to Put in the Ground This Week
If you are just starting out or getting a late push in, mid-May in Kansas is still a fine window for squash, pumpkins, cucumbers, and beans direct-sown in the garden. Soil temperatures are warm, frost risk is behind us, and the long summer days ahead give plants plenty of time to settle in. Our guide to direct sowing pumpkins covers timing, depth, and spacing for anyone who wants the specifics on getting seeds in the ground right now.
For a first-time grower who wants something that handles heat and requires less hand-holding, a butternut type or one of the moschata pumpkins is the practical recommendation. They have been bred, in one form or another, for conditions like ours: hot summers, variable rain, the kind of season that tests everything you put in the ground. A packet of heirloom pumpkin seeds is a small investment in something that might feed your kitchen through fall and winter. That is not nothing.
For new growers wondering what to watch out for once plants are in the ground, the squash bug guide is worth reading before you see your first pest, not after. Being ahead of the problems is most of the game in May and June.
The thing we keep finding, year after year on this patch, is that the first garden is rarely perfect and always worthwhile. You learn what the soil does, what the light does, which varieties you actually want to eat. You make notes. You do it again next year, a little wiser. Growing food at home turns out to be less a skill you acquire and more a conversation you start.
May is a good month to start it.
From the patch in Newton, Kansas.
From the patch to your garden