Letting My Garden Grow

I finally got off my ass and planted my garden this week.

I didn't even know I wanted one until recently. When I wanted to be in a garden, I always went to K's house. But just as it began to sink in that K's magical space was about to be lost forever, fate thrust an opportunity for my own garden right in my face.

Okay, it's not really my own garden. It's actually a three-foot by 10-foot plot in a community garden about a block and a half from my house. The coordinator bought some yard tools at K's massive moving sale, and before I knew it, I was renting the last available plot.

I planted tomatoes, basil, red peppers, sugar peas, daisies, sunflowers and lavender. I'm not sure I have the dedication or patience to be a good gardener, but so far I've been tending my plot with loving care. I can't wait to see the first shoots poke out of the soil.

Even if my garden doesn't thrive, I'm enjoying the process. If I get to eat one good caprese made with my own tomatoes and basil, I'll consider the venture a success. As May Sarton said, "A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself."