Walking through the garden after work it was easy to see where parts of it were finished while others were just beginning to put forth the offerings of the season.
The Heirloom Serpentine vines are wilted and the frosts have not even begun. The dry weather has taken a toll and soon they will need to be pulled and will in turn become compost to nourish later crops.
Eggplant is still producing yet the harvest is slowing and the plants are no longer as vigorous as a week ago. The bright green has begun to fade and the lower leaves have begun to dry and wilt. The bean vines have long been dried with the dried tendrils still clinging to the trellises and swaying in the warm fall breeze.
Baby Broccoli |
In the garden the cycles of life are apparent. Always, something is dying as something else is springing forth. Rich thick compost is produced from the spent plants and becomes nourishment for those still thriving in the beds. It is a cycle that shows the balance of nature in an environment. Yet that is not the only lesson.
The lesson is that no matter what we do we can only extend the life of plants for a finite amount of time. We can fertilize, water, coddle and prune. Yet that will only prolong the inevitable. Eventually, they too will expire and move on to another stage in the cycles that surround us.
So why garden then if all will eventually fade away? Hope. Planting a garden is a never ending belief that all will be well. This year the tomatoes will elude the horn worms. The squash bugs will not appear and water will be abundant- though not hurricane abundant. The veggies will thrive and the flowers will be awash in riotous blooms. It is that hope that keep me buying seeds, dreaming of bushels of produce and sweating in the sun.
That hope in the garden translates into hope in other parts of my life filling me with joy and a feeling of expansion.
May you be hopeful and have a beautiful day!
Jo