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| Fruits of the harvest--Photo by my sister Delaina Scholes |
“The demise of gardens”
It’s that time of year again when gardens stop
growing, stop producing, the vines shriveling up,
and everything going to seed. It’s a shame, really,
especially after all the hard work we have done
over the summer, weeding, hoeing, clipping,
watering, fertilizing, fretting, praying, etc.
The excitement of planting seeds, watching them
push their heads through soil, flexing until
their leaves shoot out, and plants and vines
growing larger, and then the blossoms,
and our hope soars when the fruit
and vegetables will begin to set,
our mouths watering for fresh cucumbers,
tomatoes, onions, peas, beans, zucchini,
corn on the cob, new red potatoes,
and whatever else we have planted.
We watch the plants like new mothers,
waking up early, monitoring the growth,
digging out those pesky weeds that grow
and multiply much faster than the plants we planted.
Ah, then the harvest, the luscious harvest!
We gleefully haul our baskets of fresh vegetables
to house, peel and slice and eat our way into ecstasy.
It doesn’t take long, though, for the newness
to wear off, especially in a good season.
You eat, bottle, freeze, dry, give away
as much as you can, even beg people
to come to take away the goods.
Then, the temperatures fall, signaling
to the garden, “your time is up now.”
Just like that they quit growing, producing.
As we pull up the vines and the plants,
we pitifully mourn and even shed a few tears.
Then, after a long, cold winter inside,
the seed catalogs show up in our mailboxes
in early spring, our memories now dim
from all the work last year, the aches
and pains, and we yearn to dig
in the dirt and plant anew.
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| Gardens--photo by my sister Delaina Scholes |
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| The demise of gardens: Keith preparing for spring planting, photo by my sister Delaina Scholes |
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