We’ve been going to our garden a lot this summer. Our garden shares its gated space with the MTA, and is composed of rows of stone and wooden planters. We have a little planter that is filled with herbs, sea grass and prickly pear cactus. I cling to our little container like a true city dweller should. Sometimes I believe our planter is nature, until the giant construction truck starts idling beside us, unloading cinder blocks for the new highrise across the street.