Bounty

Each morning and evening I tend our vegetable garden.  In some respects this reminds me of feeding, watering, and otherwise caring for an adored pet.  In return, the garden rewards me with its own version of faithful loyalty - maybe even something akin to affectionate companionship - and the freshest food under-the-sun.

A couple of days ago a visiting friend described it as “lush,” which I though an apt description.  Bean vines drape luxuriously over the fence to descend with gentle curls that flaunt poufy blossoms and slender green bean fingers. Squash leaves, umbrella-like, stand high above prolific green and yellow zucchini and summer squash as if to shelter them. Tomato plants fill and tower above their cages, showing off delicate, pre-tomato, star-like yellow flowers while thrusting insistent arms in every direction, eager to tap neighboring flora.   

Striking blue-green leaves of lacinato kale, and those of red-stemmed swiss chard, seem to wave with diplomatic flair.  Low-down arugula, lettuce, and spinach grow quietly, modestly.  Silent bell peppers dangle as if ready to chime, earning their name.  Bermuda onions hide beneath the earth: flavorful red orbs. A determined, adventurous grapevine reaches far beyond its trellis.

Marigolds, nasturtiums, and zinnas quietly paint unique beauty amidst so many luxurious shades of green.

What am I to say about all of this? Just that I am richly blessed with a profusion of organic abundance that nourishes soul as well as body.