Let it Grow

Behind our garage, which is not visible from the street, there exists a wondrous vegetable garden.  Actually, it's not all that wondrous and that's why I'm delighted it's in such an inconspicuous location. My gardening skills hover somewhere between out of control weed infestation and dumb luck.  This background information will explain a lot about my next confession.

In front of a small building that sits directly behind our house there is a plot of ground that I've designated as a perennial bed.  That should mean that the bed will be alive with flowers and other plantings that are a delight to the senses.  Dare to dream.  Before I was able to say Miracle Grow three times fast my plantings got leggy and ragged and were surrounded by numerous areas of bare ground.  And then nature, and my vegetarian lifestyle, intervened.

You see, as a vegetarian, I generate a lot of peels and seeds.  Not personally, but as a result of my meal preparations.  And as a striving earth and tree huger, I work to waste not want not.  Therefore, all of the peelings and seeds that are generated from my culinary explorations get buried in my garden where they turn into rich soil, an avocado tree or two, and various mystery plants.

Well, that's what happened in my intended perennial bed.  A rogue vine started to grow, obviously a result of my composting efforts, spreading it's happy arms in all directions and singing "Born Free" at the top of it voice.  At least, it looked as if it would sing "Born Free" if it could choose a song and have the wherewithal to accomplish such a feat.  Immediately I began to wax poetic about my admiration for the tenacity of this vine and how I must let it grow and thrive.  Truthfully, the vine was covering all the bare spots in the flower bed.

Yes, I admire tenacity.  In plants and in people.  So while I might not have a full-fledged perennial bed this year, there's always next year.  This year?  We might have some watermelons.  There are six green orbs that look promising.