|Potatoes in sunshine|
But the reward comes only partially comes from the success of growing things.
Perhaps a deeper reward derives from a mystical sense of being one with the garden.
Jerry Garcia remarked after concert that it was not the band that played the music but the music that played the band.
And so I think it is with gardening. The garden works its own magic. I know almost nothing about gardening but somehow when I am working in it it is the garden that tells me what to do. For a few hours I am at one not only with the plants and soil but with the universe.
|Potatoes fresh from the earth|
We've been lucky. There has been abundant rain and enough sunshine to make things happen. Still it seems a miracle. The magic of nature bestowing gifts,
We fool ourselves if we think we play any more than a handyman's roll. Water from the sky falls to the earth, goes into the ground, and magic happens. Beautiful things that did exist — hundred of pounds of them — are miraculously created while we stand on the sidelines in awe. It is truly amazing. And how beautiful. Tiny tomato seeds become huge plants five feet tall and more weighted with ripening fruit. Again it is not our doing.
|Tomatoes on the vine|
But that's what we are here for. And not just for gardens but to help each other.
What the garden teaches with its dirt and soil and microbes and worms, nutrients and moisture, minerals and compost, weeds and bugs, is interdependence.
For a while, working and weeding, digging and planting, I am not the gardener. I become the garden.