Work Text:
Everything they used was what he would have called old fashioned, but it worked better than the now obsolete modern gardening implements. Hershel had been right; the horse had been able to pull the plough and the prison yard had become a field. The old fashioned tools required more man-power or hours to get results, but they didn’t require fuel or batteries and were quiet.
Rick never thought that he would become a farmer or take up gardening, but he found that it had become a lifeline to cling to when he felt that everything else had fallen apart. It gave him something to do that took all of his energy and allowed his mind to dwell on simple things. When they had started clearing the yard and laying out the garden plots the sound of the walkers at the fence was unnerving. The Council had allowed some electrical use to charge his small mp3 player though, so now he had music to drown out all other sound and to fill his head when all other thought became too much to bear.
After all of that work there was food growing in their yard, and it was being harvested slowly as plants grew. The greens were already being used, lettuce grew quickly and when cut properly it grew back even quicker. Hershel had taught them a few things, and a run to a bookstore had taught them more, so now they had a system of harvesting that allowed short growth-cycle plants like radishes, baby turnips and the greens to be harvested and replanted or grown while waiting for the other plants, like tomatoes and squash, to be mature. If he had been growing vegetables like this before the walkers he would never have viewed grocery stores as he had.
Growing food was good clean work for him to do, and he felt as though he was really accomplishing something instead of just surviving. He almost felt as though the plants were his babies, as much as his children did, and he saw something new in their growth every day just as he did with the way Judith grew. It was hard to explain to the others, though Hershel seemed to understand better than most. Rick had hoped that Carl would understand, but the way of this new world made that difficult.
Maybe it was for the best that Carl was a survivor, able to take care of himself when others fell apart. Rick was lucky that there were so many others capable of taking the leadership for their group and keeping it all going while he was taking this break. It wasn’t a break from responsibility because the work he did was important for the survival of the group too, but it was a break from the daily violence that had defined their lives for too long. He just needed this growing season before he too could move on again and face what had become of their lives.