There's a San Diego community garden down by the international border with Mexico. It's within walking distance of the huge fence that divides our countries. It's beside a forgotten ugly piece of land - acres of wild jumbled weeds, bushes and trees that grow unchecked by the Tijuana River, the polluting ecological disaster that runs from Mexico into the US then drains out into the ocean.
The community garden (collage above) is a football field size plot of land. Some of the plots are well tended and grow beautifully, some are completely abandoned packed full of yellow weeds as high as an 'elephant's eye'. An old bed spring is used for a gate.
A helicopter from the border patrol slowly buzzed back and forth overhead, up and down the beach (about a quarter of a mile away) like a lazy bee. This time when I visited, I noticed dozens and dozens of new plots added and numbered - in the three digits now . . . a sea of plastic green fencing dividing the available plots, a lone table and chair placed with promise in one.
