It was the garden.
And everything was dead.
The worst part was that it was a sign of my neglect. After the first frost I didn't go out and clean it all up like I should have. I let it fester.
So, realizing I would not have many more opportunities, I grabbed my gardening gloves and marched (read: waddled) out. I began with zeal to fill an entire garbage can with mouldering tomatoes, peppers, cantaloupes, squash, carrots, beans, and flowers.
I was pretty depressed about all the deadness surrounding me until I caught a glimpse of something red and shiny perched on one of the slimy old tomato branches that was about to go into the trash.
She was waving a white flag, and she wasn't dead at all.
We greeted each other warmly and she did some calisthenics on my glove before moseying over to a pile of corn husks, where I hope she has a mate and is having gillions of babies.
As I rooted around in the dirt I began to see a little movement, and then more and more until there in front of me were a bunch of pink, wriggling things.
That's right. Worms. Hundreds of them. Long ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones. All happy. All fed. All on the lookout for worm love.
If dogs are man's best friend, then worms are the gardener's.
So I took heart. The garden isn't dead. It's just sleeping.
And it's going to be a good year.
9 comments:
And this is where we differ, because upon seeing all those worms I would have run screaming into the house, washed my hands a few thousand times, and then curled up on the couch in a blanket.
So. Way to go, you gardener, you.
Kim, I seriously considered taking a picture of all those worms, but then I thought of you, and how you would never eat anything out of my garden again if you saw them.
Abby, I LOVE to read your writings. You are cute, clever and hilarious. You make me smile!
Oh, we truly must be kindred spirits. I couldn't take another day without something to grow and some dirt to put under my fingernails that I finally had Pianoman buckle down and build some grow boxes for our patio last week. They are now, thankfully, filled with good, growing soil and seeds of all kinds in their many varieties! I wonder how long it would take to mail my first tomato to Oregon in your honor....
xo
I love the way you write about your garden. Though it's not my thing (because I don't have what we like to call, the skills) I think your thoughts and experiences and pictures from the garden are beautiful.
I wish everything I planted hadn't died this summer/fall.
Very sad. I think my soil is sucky. Too many broken liquor bottles have poisoned it.
From the previous residents, I swear.
Have you read "The Secret Garden" yet?
"If a thing is wick it has a life about it!"
This would be a great read for January!
I love that you are nesting in your garden.
Love, Meg
I am counting down the days until I can plant my garden again! I can't wait....here's to hoping that it will be a plentiful harvest for you and I both!
Your blogs make me so happy--tears-in-my-eyes happy. Thank you.
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