Every now and then, I get to feeling that I actually know something about gardening and can consider myself no longer a newbie without a clue but a somewhat experienced gardener. Then the garden pulls a fast one on me and I realize that four growing seasons under my belt is nothing compared to the eons Nature's been growing things. A newbie I am and a newbie I shall remain, I respectfully bow my head to Nature and will try to recognize the patterns and cycles she shows me and learn.
The picture is of part of my vegetable garden. The last few weeks, I have been working in it, spreading compost and raking; generally looking very busy without really accomplishing all that much. I had noticed a couple of rows of what is either kale or chard looking rather green and alive amid the lifeless garden. "Hmm," I think to myself, "It must have frozen that way." Some instinct tells me to leave it alone and see what happens - probably Nature's gentle whisper even though she had every right to howl, "LEAVE it ALONE, you fool! I KNOW what I'm doing which makes ONE us". Sure enough, it is growing new leaves and making a bare, brown strip of ground realize all it can be.
I never knew chard or kale came back every year. I thought it was like lettuce, it dies off in the fall and you replant it in the spring. I wonder if it is like rhubarb and will eventually take over my garden? It'd serve me right for being such a brainless wonder not to know it was a perennial. Right now though, I'm pretty temped to think myself an accomplished gardener. I mean I'm growing things way before they should have even been planted. Hmm, that's strange; I thought I just heard a long, aggravated, exasperated howl from the garden...
Aujourd'hui, j'ai résisté
5 weeks ago
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