I spoke to my mother today, bless her, for some reason she had it stuck in her head that melons grow on trees.
(They don't just in case anyone else is under a similar delusion)
I totally get that growing things can be a kind of abstract concept when you grow up and live in big cities, but I've always loved planting things. I love the idea that a tiny little seed turns into a giant plant, I love that you can read the instructions on the packet, and if you follow them, it'll grow.
I even love weeding. There's something just so satisfying about pulling them. Sometimes when the rows are crowed, or there's been a lot of rain, it's hard to tell what should be growing and what shouldn't. The only way to do it really is to pull away all the things you know are weeds, picking them all off one by one until you can see what should actually be there. Even the Shepard's Purse - you know it's going to sting, but you just have to suck it up, because it shouldn't be there, and if you let it lose, it'll over take everything.
I started some peas way back in March, and today, I just noticed I have one tiny little pod. It may be a simple thing, but it does show me that life is still carrying on as it should.
And if nothing else, this deer will always be my friend - he comes to see me whenever I walk pas, and tries to lick me through the fence. Most likely because I've spoiled him with apples over the years, but I like to think he likes me.
