When I was growing up, my grandmother had a beautiful garden. She had raspberry plants that produced enough to sell. She could grow anything – or so I thought. We didn’t live near her, but when we visited, I always enjoyed heading out to the garden to see what was growing. I’d eat peas off the vine. My aunt used to pickle green beans, and I could’ve eaten an entire jar all by myself.
Gardening was my only exposure to any agriculture as a kid, really. I understand it isn’t much of an exposure when you look at the expanse of ranching, but I loved the plants. It seemed so ordinary, yet miraculous. Of course, I wasn’t there for all the tough stuff! We usually visited when the harvest was ready and the hoeing, planting and weeding had been done. Sure, we’d help pull some weeds while we were there, but my grandma did all the tough chores.
Her love of it made me want to grow things. By the time I was in middle school, I convinced my parents that I could grow zucchini. We had the rockiest yard in the West, but I hoed a patch in the back corner, tossed aside some rocks and watered the seeds. My parents didn’t want me to be disappointed by our poor soil, so they said, “Treat it like an experiment. If nothing grows, it’ll be OK.”
Well, I watered my plants. I think I hauled buckets, but I honestly don’t remember. And when I picked my first zucchini, I was so proud. Wouldn’t you know it, zucchini really can grow almost anywhere! I had a handful of zucchinis that summer. I remember being so satisfied that something I planted grew. What a gift! But I also learned the tension behind planting and harvesting. There’s waiting involved. And dirty hands, sometimes with calluses.
I know my zucchini growing doesn’t relate all that closely to cattle ranching, but it was an initial seed for my love of land – which ended up growing into more.
And growth is a remarkable process. It’s a beautiful thing for the sun to warm the earth while soil and water assist plant growth. I know the science behind it, but it still never ceases to amaze me, whether it’s vegetables, hay or the grass the cattle munch. Seeds themselves are miracles. They die in the ground and become a whole new plant. No wonder the good book uses planting and sowing references; it’s an amazing process that shows the handiwork of our Creator!
Yet it doesn’t last. Our growing season isn’t every day, all year. Even in warmer climates, there is a natural break for rest: winter. As I write this, we are still a few weeks away from a first frost. Hopefully more. But I know it’s coming because that is the cycle of nature.
Here in Montana, the growing season is so short that I savor it in a different way than other natural cycles. I try to appreciate every day I go out and my plants are still growing. This year, I started cantaloupe inside and I have two little melons! They’re my “mountain melons” because they survived wind, hail and cold temperatures.
I suppose we humans are like this, too – we keep going in the wind, hail and freezing temperatures of life. The everyday bits of life can get tedious and strenuous. We’ve certainly had our share of frustrations, but there are also blessings. We live in a world of pros and cons, good and bad. But whatever we look for, we will find, so I hope I am looking for more blessings than frustrations. And blessings are often found in the ordinary. For me, that’s especially true in gardening (and during calving season.)
The ordinary may get overlooked, but every day the sun comes up is a gift. Every breath I get to take is a blessing. And the older I get, the more miraculous every moment seems.
My grandmother lived to be 93. I don’t know if she saw gardening as an ordinary miracle, but maybe. She’d grown up on a farm, and when I married my cowboy, she was tickled pink. She always loved hearing about the land and the animals. When we had kids, she was excited that our kids would grow up learning about agriculture. She’d tell story after story (for hours sometimes!) about things that happened when she was growing up.
My garden this year doesn’t look anything like hers. But if she were still here, I don’t think she would’ve been disappointed. (She may have been able to give me a few pointers, though.)
As we tuck away our warm weather expectations, I hope we can still savor the everyday joys of life in a new season and appreciate the tension of pros and cons, frustrations and blessings.
