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A garden costs nothing to start

Seeds, soil, a container and water each have a free source. The upfront cost that stops most people is the one part of this that is optional.

Put together from people growing food on almost no money and comparing notes about where the free version of each thing comes from. The legal detail in it was checked against the statute rather than taken from the conversation, and the conversation had it wrong.

Price a garden before you start one and you get four numbers: seeds, soil, something to put it in, and the water. It adds up to enough that the arithmetic gets done once and the idea gets quietly put down. That arithmetic is where this goes wrong, because all four of those have a free version and the free versions are not worse.

Seeds, soil, a container and water can each be had for nothing, and the seeds are the easiest one to get first.

The four things

Seeds first. Some public libraries run a seed library, which works exactly like the book kind: you take seeds, grow them, and return some of what you harvest at the end of the season. Where there is no library scheme there are community seed exchanges and swap groups doing the same thing, and there are people who simply have too much and would rather it went somewhere. And the oldest version costs nothing and needs nobody: a plant that finishes its season makes next year’s seed by itself, which is what saving seed means and why it is the step that takes the whole thing off a shopping list permanently.

Soil is the one that surprises people, because a bag of compost is heavy and the price is real. You do not need it. Soil can be built where you are standing, out of things already being thrown away — leaf litter, grass clippings, cardboard, kitchen scraps — layered on top of the ground rather than dug into it, and left to become soil. It takes It takes a season and no money.

One honest limit on that, because it lands on the reader with the least space. In the ground, bulk matters more than fineness and home-made soil does well. In containers it is a different question — drainage and air matter more, cheap bagged topsoil was reported to be padded out with things like pine shavings, and people disagreed about whether the free route works there at all. Nobody settled it. If you are growing in pots, treat the free soil as worth trying rather than as a solved problem, and expect to add to it.

Something to put it in: beds and planters come out of moving sales, estate sales, thrift shops, reclaimed wood, and household things that were never meant to grow anything. This is the part where a renter with a balcony is in exactly the same position as anybody else. One person mentioned finding plants themselves for free in the least likely places — a parking lot, a compost heap, the cracks between patio bricks — and digging them up to pass on to neighbors. Worth one caution the same conversations raised: a plant growing at the edge of a car park has been standing in whatever runs off it, so treat that as a plant to look at rather than a plant to eat.

Water gets its own section, below, because it comes with a myth and a hazard attached.

There is also a way to want less water in the first place. Building a bed in deep layers — wood at the bottom, then compost, then mulch on top — holds moisture down where the roots are, so the whole thing needs watering far less often. That was one person’s approach, and it is the free answer for anybody who has nowhere to put a barrel.

The water, and the law people get wrong

Rain barrels are the free-water answer, and barrels themselves are often free: some businesses pay to dispose of food-grade containers and would rather hand them to you. One person got theirs by trading vegetables and hot sauce for them.

What stops people is usually a belief, and the belief is wrong. You may have heard that collecting rainwater is illegal where you live. That traces back to a real case which was about diverting water out of a stream — not about catching what falls on your own roof — and it hardened into a rule that was never the rule. And the state most often named as the one that bans it turns out to have the opposite — a written allowance with a limit attached.

That is not the same as unregulated, and this is where a page has to be careful rather than encouraging. What varies by state, and sometimes by municipality, is how much you may keep and whether you have to tell anybody. This next part is United States law, and if you are somewhere else it is the shape rather than the numbers that carries over. Colorado is the useful example because its limit is specific and low: two barrels, holding no more than a hundred and ten gallons between them — combined, not each — collected from the roof of a home, used outdoors on the property it fell on, and not used for drinking or anything indoors.

Somewhere else the number will be different or there will be no number. So the honest instruction is two steps, not one: the ban you have heard about is almost certainly not real, and the rules where you live are worth thirty seconds of checking before you set anything up. Your state’s water agency will have the answer, and it is a short page rather than a legal document. Outside the United States the same question exists and the answer is somebody else’s to give — a water authority, a council, a local grower.

What this will and will not save you

Here is the argument the people doing this have with each other, and it would be dishonest to leave it out of a page with this title.

One side says a garden run this way costs almost nothing and takes real money off a grocery bill. The other says that once you count soil, water, materials and the hours, the savings are small enough not to be the reason to do it. Both of those are being said by people who actually garden, and the disagreement does not resolve, because it depends on what you grow, what you would otherwise buy, and what your time is worth to you.

What is not in dispute is the direction things move once you are started. Two people described the same effect from opposite ends: leave a few tubers or bulbs in the ground rather than harvesting every one, and the plants come back next year without being planted; and one person’s potatoes came from spuds that had gone soft in the cupboard, thrown into dirt and then largely ignored. The first year is the expensive one in effort, and it is the one where the inputs are free.

There is also a reader this page is simply the wrong tool for, and it is worth saying rather than letting them feel they failed at it. If you have no outdoor space, no windowsill that gets light, and nowhere to leave a container undisturbed, then free inputs solve a problem you do not have — the constraint is space, and no amount of free seed touches it. A community garden plot or a shared allotment is the version of this for you, and it is a different question with a local answer.

So the fair version is this. For most of the ways it could cost you money, it does not have to. It may or may not beat the supermarket, and it will cost you very little to find out.


This page will not tell you what to plant, and that is not an omission for length. What grows for you is decided by where you are — the same plant that is unkillable in one person’s yard died in somebody else’s container over one winter, and the arguments about which herbs survive the cold were all really arguments about two different climates. That question belongs to somebody local: an extension service, a community garden, a neighbor with a full bed.

What travels is the part above. The cost of finding out is the thing that was never real, and it was the only thing standing in the way.

Drawn from the real, shared experience of thousands of people. Shared experience, not professional advice.

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