Stewardship

August 26, 2013

     Late Summer. Rounding the bend toward Autumn. This afternoon, after my days work was done, the dogs and I ventured out to the garden. My intention was to pick the plum tomatoes I spied a few days ago. By now, I thought, they should be ready.

Sure enough, I found twenty or so. Quite ripe, or almost there.

     The green beans – bush flat variety, and the pencil thin haricots verts had already given up a plentiful harvest. The timely rains we enjoyed helped.

Perhaps there might be a second offering. Did I read that beans produce additional harvests when picked regularly? Hope so.

      Sure enough, I found enough bush beans to make a decent contribution to supper. Moving down the row, bent over, I peered through the bushy mass of green. Voila! Another unexpected surprise.  Plentiful, slender, elegant haricots verts.  Another meal.

      Turning the corner past the yellowing cucumber vines I was greeted with another late summer bonus. Clusters of orange yellow orbs, the delightful Sungold tomato.

    There is something satisfying in eating what’s currently available. I don’t have lettuce anymore, so salad is not on the menu. Tomatoes with basil, or rosemary, or tarragon, sliced, roasted, sauced. Yes! Green beans with garlic, mint and cherry tomatoes. Yes again!

     Luscious wedges of cantaloupes grace the breakfast table. Last week potato salad with hard boiled eggs was a star attraction.

    When I am in the garden I find I move to a rhythm determined by the time of day, be it early morning, midday or evening.I am ever mindful of the presence or absence of rain and wind. And the month. What needs doing in April or May differs from what is required in August. I like being a steward to the seasonal and climactic changes on my small property.

    Steward. That is the perfect word to describe the position I occupy in the garden. Perhaps in life. I think it implies that I am not the central actor. Some other force greater than me, has the major role. It is my job to see that all the necessary ingredients are available to achieve success. Something like parenting, I think.

    Cantaloupes. Beautifully netted, round, heavy – one of my top ten favorite crops. This year, thanks to ample rainfall all summer, at just the right time, the cantaloupe patch offered up six or seven burgeoning melons. Patience is a virtue when it comes to melons. I have found that out the hard way by plucking one out, anticipating with joy the knife slice down the center, only to discover I should have waited another few days. Tough, flavorless, unripe.

As with many things, timing is everything. And attentiveness. Watching, observing, turning a careful eye to the subtle changes.