While I Wasn’t Watching
Early July In The Garden
I put the lid on the coffee pot and flick the button back to start the drip. While I wait, I turn and look out the back window like I do every morning - toward the garden.
Usually I watch the pinwheel my daughter brought me home from the dollar store spin in the breeze, and it makes me smile.
But today, something entirely different catches my eye.
There is a cluster of cream Zinnias that burst into bloom by the tomato plants overnight.
I don’t even remember planting white flowers there.
I thought it was only basil.
I’m caught by surprise, but the timing is perfect. I will clip them and make a little bouquet to take to a friend tomorrow.
Lately I’ve been thinking about the seeds I plant and how they grow.
In spring I have a vision.
This will go here; that will go there.
If I plant these pumpkins now, they should be ripe and ready by October.
I check the plant spacing and light requirements and do my best to place each seed where it will thrive.
I water diligently and check every day, impatiently waiting for the seedlings to show their delicate faces.
Then, for awhile... I stop noticing.
I get distracted by carpool and classroom parties.
We head out of town.
We don’t eat enough arugula and it grows out of control. The mass crowds out the marigolds- I guess no marigolds this year.
I plant seeds in straight rows, but water rearranges them. Now they grow in clusters.
Each night while I sleep, the landscape shifts a bit.
The wisteria tendrils creep another inch. A cherry tomato begins to blush.
Each seed held a possibility.
But not every flower survives the night.
Some plants don’t seem to grow much at all.
A few wither and die.
But others? They greet me in the morning.
A glimmer that emerged when I strolled past the seed packets suddenly bursts into the world.
A real, tangible, beautiful thing that is here now for me to notice and enjoy.
All I did was place a seed.
After that? I let the automatic drip and the sunshine do what they do.
I moved onto other chores, other pursuits. Let other thoughts occupy my mind.
Until this morning.
I do the work so that one muggy morning in July, while I sip my coffee, I get to feel this tiny thrill.