Growing Mint In My Garden: The Herb That Took Over My Heart
I never expected mint to turn out to be one of the happiest little surprises in my garden, but that is exactly what happened. Just a few seedlings that I planted in the soil one cloudy afternoon is how it all began, and before I could realize it, the herb was spreading with such a kind of confidence that it made me smile every time I passed by it.
There is certainly something wonderful about the way mint grows in our Soshanguve heat strong, refreshing, and vibrant and this post is like me showing you that journey, really, from the very first little leaves up to the thick, aromatic bunches that I cut today.
What You'll Discover in This Post
Before I take you into my little mint journey, I want to share what I'll be opening up about in this story. You will find was initially a small seedling which I planted and grew near the corner of my yard. Later on, it became a thick, sweet smelling carpet, and I also learned to understand its moods in our Soshanguve heat. Along with me, you will go the messy parts, the surprises, the times I thought that the poor herb would die, and the little victories when the leaves got greener than before. In fact, you will understand the behavior of mint in a home garden, what it loves, what it hates, how fast it spreads, and how I harvest it without letting it take over the whole yard by the time you get to the last paragraph.
The Beginning: When My Mint Was Just Tiny Seedlings
Every herb in my garden has its own story, but mint… mint has a personality. A stubborn, happy, wild personality. I still remember the day those tiny mint seedlings first pushed through the soil. I had watered the bed the night before, and when I bent down the following morning, they were just there small bright green leaves lifting themselves into our soft Soshanguve sunlight as if they had been waiting for applause.
There was something almost mischievous about how quickly they settled in. While other plants hesitated, mint wasted no time. Within a week, it was spreading sideways, throwing out runners as though it had secret tunnels planned underground. I've heard people say mint is invasive, and now I believe them. But in that moment, watching it claim its little spot in my garden, I felt more delighted than worried.
It honestly felt like mint understood our climate better than I expected. In Soshanguve, the sun is often strong, and the soil dries out very fast if there is no mulch, but mint has kept its energy in some way. I was watering the soil moderately, and the seedlings came out with new leaves so fast that they made me look twice every morning.
The thing that really got me was the speed with which mint became self assured. One moment it's small and shy… the next moment, it starts claiming space like a toddler learning how to run.
Watching the Leaves Grow: The Close-Up Beauty of Mint
It was a morning after a rain when I went outside with a cup of tea in my hand, and the mint leaves were covered in tiny water droplets. They were shining. That is the only way I can explain it. New, lively, almost neon green in the early light.
I knelt down to touch the leaves and instantly felt that crisp mint scent rising. It's a sharp smell, but soft at the same time the type that clears your chest even before you boil it.
What I learned during this period is that mint leaves speak. They tell you everything. When they curl, they're thirsty. When they pale, they want shade. When the tips darken, the sun has been a bit too intense. But when they look like the ones in this image vibrant, textured, and plump that's mint saying, "Yes, this is the life."
There's something comforting about growing a plant that communicates so clearly. I found myself checking on it every time I walked past the garden, passing my hand across the top just to release the smell. It became a small daily ritual that calmed me more than I expected.
As the leaves grew bigger, they began forming a beautiful canopy. The runners began sneaking out, sending little shoots into new spaces. I tried to direct them by gently moving the stems, but mint had its own plans. It wanted to explore.
The Mint That Became a Bush: My First Real Harvest
As weeks passed, the mint started looking like a small green bush rather than a young herb. It was taller, fuller, and had become something I could actually harvest from.
I had been waiting for this very moment. Carefully, I removed the top leaves with my fingers, as I wanted to be sure that the small shoots under the leaves were not getting disturbed in any way. The scent of the herb flew out to the surrounding atmosphere right at the moment when I rubbed the first leaf with my fingers. It was really an insignificant thing, but it gave me the feeling of having achieved something great. I had grown this. I had watched it develop from tiny seedlings into a mint bush big enough to fill a full handful.
However, the garden has a way of not going as planned sometimes. If one doesn't keep an eye on it, mint can become very overpowering in a very short time. Runners from the mint were reaching the next patch that I was going to use for peppers. I found them going underground illegally like rebellious teenagers trying to escape curfew. Without intervention, they would take over the entire corner of the yard.
I learned that harvesting actually helps control mint. The more I cut, the more it thickened in the main area instead of spreading outward. It became a cycle: harvest, watch it bounce back, harvest again, smile at its stubbornness, and repeat.
There were also moments when the sun was too harsh. The top leaves sometimes lost their shine, and I could see the plant leaning slightly away from the hottest parts of the afternoon. That's when I increased mulching, and the mint responded instantly. If you want mint to keep giving you more and more leaves, you will have to provide it with enough moisture.
The Emotional Side of Growing Mint
Honestly, I did not expect that mint would influence my emotions the way it did in the garden. However, there was something very stabilizing about this plant. In my opinion, it is because mint grows like hope. Even if it is hot, dry, or unpredictable, mint will still bring out its new shoots. It will still recover. It will still find new ways to survive and thrive.
There were times when I was going out to the garden tired or stressed, and the mint would be the first thing I smelled. Somehow that scent would help to improve my mood. The garden has its own way of telling you things that you are not aware of. Mint's message to me was always, "Keep going."
As the plant became more and more abundant, I started to find using it more in tea, in water, in cooking. Every leaf was a carrier of the weather, patience, and joy.
Speaking of the journey,
If I don't think about it, my mint patch just looks like an herb I planted. But it is now, a living reminder of how easily growth can be when you provide the right environment. It showed me that tiny seedlings can grow into something loud and beautiful if you allow them to get familiar, spread their roots and find their tempo.
So it is every time I use it, whether it is just a few leaves for tea or a bunch for drying, I am again, connected to the journey. Mint was not just a plant anymore it became a narrative, a smell, a solace.
Final Reflection: What Mint Taught Me
Growing mint in my Soshanguve garden taught me patience, observation, and balance. It showed me that a few plants might not need a lot, only a little space to run free, water to drink, and sunlight to take at the right times of the day. But it also showed me how fast a thing can develop if it gets the right place to fix its roots.
And maybe that is the biggest lesson: everything grows differently, but everything grows for a reason. Mint grew to remind me that even in the heat, even in the unexpected, there is always room for something refreshing.
If you ever choose to grow mint, just be sure that it might teach you a lot more than you anticipate.
