Learning the True Value of Living Soil: My Urban Farming Lessons in Memphis

I never imagined I’d develop such a deep appreciation for the difference between store-bought growing mixes and truly living, nutrient-rich soil. My plants haven’t been struggling, exactly—but I can now clearly see what healthy, vibrant growth looks like when the foundation is right.

When we moved to our current spot, I knew it was temporary for The Wild Bloom. I wouldn’t be building permanent garden beds just yet, so I filled four galvanized raised beds using the Hügelkultur method to stretch my soil budget and mimic natural forest floor processes. I layered branches and sticks at the bottom, added a thick blanket of fall leaves I’d raked up, and topped everything with bags of soil from the store. In two beds I planted potatoes; in the other two, dahlias.

Two weeks ago, I dug up the dahlias. They were stunted, pale green, and underwhelming despite consistent watering, feeding, and pruning. It was a clear lesson. This year I’ve been truly blessed to discover how good our native Memphis soil actually is. The contrast with the store-bought soil and compost was striking.

(^ This image shows the difference between soil cared for for 3 years and compost waste from ducks and rabbits. And the raised beds are this years, first year bagged soil, and no natural elements. These images are exact days only a year apart)

The bagged compost I purchased (labeled as cow-based and fully broken down) turned out to be hot, woody, and full of unfinished material. It literally burned some of what I planted. I suspected this was common with big-box options, but experiencing it firsthand drove the point home.

Thankfully, I remembered the worm compost bin I started indoors late last year. This week I sifted through it—and it was beautiful. Rich, dark, earthy, and teeming with happy worms. I made a simple compost tea (a few tablespoons in a 5-gallon bucket of water) and gave it to my heavy feeders: tomatoes, corn, herbs, zinnias, and okra. The difference in color and vigor is already showing.

These small wins have me even more excited for what’s ahead. I’m so ready to finally put down roots in a permanent location for The Wild Bloom—one where I can connect directly with our community and show others how to grow food and beauty right in their own backyards.

I’ve also started sowing seeds now for late-summer and fall transplants. I’m planning for winter harvests and overwintering crops that sweeten with a touch of frost. Every season here in Memphis teaches me something new.

I’m deeply grateful to share this learning journey with you—the successes, the stumbles, and the steady progress. One day soon, I hope you’ll join us around the table at The Wild Bloom to share food, culture, stories, and the joy of growing together.

Until Next Time,

Serena - The Wild Bloom Garden