Our garden, like our lives, is a sort of planned and yet sort of serendipitous thing. The best attempt at planting with black weed control paper and the perusal of all the different types of seeds and/or plants only means that we’ve taken our best shot at may be a boon or bust year. Nature sent us a long cool, wet spring. We had snow in April, although it didn’t last. Now we are sweltering under extreme heat. One never knows.
My spouse’s interest in vertical planting seems successful with strawberry plants and strawberries bursting out of the pallet he placed them in. Tomatoes are flowering and waiting for August to share what appears to be a decent crop. Tiny pumpkins are bursting forth, harbingers of autumnal beauty and joy. Corn makes its first appearance in our garden this year. Nearby beans are beginning to appear and the basil is enjoying the current temperature extremes.
A foregone conclusion to each years garden is that we will be sharing the harvest. If the crops are plentiful, we’ll be able to share with family and friends. There are the others we share with. Woodland creatures never offer an RSVP, but we know they’ll be by. Some eating the sunflowers before they get a chance to appear in full. Deer graze the apple trees eating the tiny apples. We will work for the fruit higher on the trees. Little cucumbers spark joy, recalling the pleasures that summer fresh crunchy pickles are one of the highlights of summer. We’ve outsmarted a few with hanging planter bags. The lettuce we’ve grown was enjoyed in fresh salads.
Last year’s dill landed in several spots, providing extra plants that surprised and delighted us. If only the tomatoes and basil would be ready at the same time, but this is a small grudge that doesn’t last once the first bites of Caprese salad are enjoyed.
Perhaps the greatest gift of the garden is how it reminds us of little miracles. Each blossom, fruit, vegetable or herb that grows nourishes the body, mind and spirit. Each plant brings with it the hope of harvest, abundance and success in nurturing the smallest seed. The partnership of climate, location, and human interaction with this cycle reminds that we have no control but we are no less obligated to assist and protect the seedlings that will provide us culinary delight, and true nourishment. More than anything that comes in a bag, box or can that which we grow with our own hands feeds us in a way that nothing else can.