It amazes me again each year that from the humblest beginnings, little dry seeds and tiny seedlings can grow with such fury. Reaching toward the sky. Rambling out of their beds. Stretching twining tendrils. Completing life's cycle as Mother Nature intended.
We are ego-centric to think that they do it for us. Because we want to nibble on tender peas or pluck a sun-warmed grape tomato and pop it in our mouths.
They are the ones in charge, not us. They manipulate us into coddling them through late spring frosts, quenching their thirsts in the dry July heat, keeping predators at bay.
We make a hand-shake deal when we pull back the warm earth, dirt beneath our nails, and welcome them to their new home. We promise to love, nurture, and cherish. They promise to be fruitful and multiply.
But when we plant a garden, we are given more than just fruit.
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(This print is available for purchase on Etsy.)
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