A spring garden is a hopeful garden. The young plants are planted in straight lines, standing at attention, still short and sprightly and getting enough water. They awake optimistically with the sun every morning and are lulled to sleep with late spring breezes and soothing temperatures. Tender whorls of lettuce grow wider every day, their green and purple jewel tones shining brilliantly in the still-crisp mornings. The peas stretch inches taller from hour to hour, wildly grabbing at anything within reach of their inquisitive tendrils. The weeds are nonexistent, the rows clear and orderly. Insects have not yet begun to ravage the sweet young leaves. This is how I imagine babies, open to the world, yet full of infinite possibility and innocence.
Tue, June 2, 2009