The other morning, the purple beans were ready. There were dozen of them, fat and ready to pick. They are always a favorite crop, because they're magic: they are purple on the vine, but the heat of cooking makes them green.
"Purple for Ava and green for Dylan." Ava says, satisfied with these vegetable that are willing to be both their favorite colors.
The garden is coming in like mad. The best crop of tomatoes I've had in the three years we've planted here. And corn sprouting on every stalk, the first time we've ever had success with it.
Basil growing in bushes already. I've already made my first batch of pesto and there is plenty more, waiting on the plants.
Pure heart watermelons, literally covering the vines, swelling everyday, waiting for the 4th of July.
And my cucumbers. I can always count on them.
This year, we planted edible flowers all through the garden, to encourage bees. And for making flower sandwiches.
The kids have their own bed and always plant sunflowers, and this year they chose the mammoth variety.
"Don't you want to plant anything else in your garden bed?"
"Where will our dinosaurs play if there are plants in the way?!"
I love my garden. I love working in it and the surprise of things suddenly there. One morning there is a tiny cucumber attached to a blossom. And in two days, it's huge and ready to be chopped up for a salad. Little seeds, that turn into this.
But this year, this garden isn't mine. Because soon, very soon, we will be leaving here and moving somewhere new. To start a new garden and grow new things. But for now, I'm tending tomatoes for someone else to enjoy. And I hope they enjoy them. I hope the new people who will live in this home partially chose it for the garden. For the idea of fresh veggies and the raised beds and all of it tended and ready just for them. But the truth is, it won't be mine anymore. And if they tear my garden out and put in a pool, if they cement it over for a basketball court, I hope they enjoy that too. Because it won't be mine anymore, it will be there's.
But until then, I'll water and weed, and pick cucumbers and watch for the first red tomato of the season.