A Gardener's Wife

I have been a gardener's wife for almost 10 years now.  The seasons have taken on new meaning as planting, sowing, harvesting have become common practices in our household.  I have fallen in love with the idea and the reality of growing food, of eating out of our own backyard and living as much as possible off our small plot of land.  And while so much of it has been commonplace and no longer quite as thrilling.............there is a moment that retains just as much excitement and anticipation as it did the first time.

Each year begins with the seeds.  They are planted with care, away from the extremes of the outdoors.  They are babied and cared for because we expect so much of them later.  We are careful - watering them with droppers and shielding them from too much cold, too much sun, too much of anything that can overwhelm them or hinder their growth.

Outside we break ground.  The soil is tossed about and the rocks are thrown about in an attempt to prepare the ground for our precious seeds.  

Joe watches the weather, watches the conditions and one day it is determined it's time.  It's time for the seedlings to go in.  They have grown with their time inside, being cared for and gently raised up from the seeds they once were.

And so out we go and gently the seedlings go in.

We dig small holes, filling them with water and oh so gently they are laid in the earth.  We fill in the holes, pat down the earth and walk away.

And there is this moment where you have to wonder if they will take to their new environment, to their new surroundings and if they will survive on their own.

For although you will be back to water them and pluck the biggest weeds that surround them, that care they knew before they were planted in the out of doors is gone.  They are to survive on their own.

And so the moment that still brings a thrill to me, that still generates whoops and shouts from us all at the Codispoti house is that moment when you look outside, when you enter into the garden gates and you see the first sign of fruit, the first sign of life that has sprung forth from what was once a seed.  That.  That is the moment that retains just as much excitement and anticipation as it did the first time.

It takes a great deal of faith and trust to walk away, to let what you so gently cared for go on it's own and trust that fruit will be generated.  

But that's the thrill.

That's the excitement.

Knowing you did all you could and having to wait, it's out of your hands and in the hands of the One who ultimately controls the seasons, the planting and new life.

And what a thrill it is when you see all that a small seed is capable of, you remember the tiny little seeds that spilled out into your hands and into the dirt.  You remember the seedlings that sprang from your love and care and attention.  And it seems incredulous to me that from those tiny seeds came rows and rows of bounty, spilling forth from the earth.  It seems, each season, a fulfillment of a promise.  It never grows old or commonplace, that time is always accompanied by a bit of awe and wonder.

And so I ask.........are you in a season of careful cultivation or of walking away? 

Are you witnessing signs of new life, growth or enjoying the bounty of your labor?  

Or are you just beginning to sow seeds?