First Harvest

I have fond childhood memories of walking (running) up to my family's garden for fresh veggies. We'd be preparing for dinner, maybe grilling some burgers, prepping a salad, or pan searing trout, and my dad would turn to me and say, "Hey, why don't you go get some tomatoes from the garden?" I'd happily grab a bowl or colander and head on up to the garden ready to find the perfect tomato. Like a pro, I would reach through the tomato cages, gently squeezing every bright red succulent fruit. Finally, I would find the right one, perfectly ripe and ready for harvest. With a gentle tug the tomato would almost fall off the vine as if jumping at the chance to be devoured. In my opinion,there is little in the world that tastes better than a tomato, fresh from the garden, still warm from the summer sun, juicy and ready to be eaten.

Ever since first conception of growing a garden I've been waiting for the opportunity to experience that gratification once again. Not the specific pleasure of eating a fresh tomato (though I do wait patiently for that occasion) but the satisfaction of harvesting fresh food. Today, I was able to fulfill this desire.

  I had guessed in a previous post that my lettuce had failed completely. To my surprise though, a few of my plants have come in beautifully and are ready for the harvest. So, today I gathered up the necessary tools, a pair of scissors and a bowl, and got to work.

I've read that if you cut the lettuce, instead of tearing it off or pulling up the whole plant, it may grow back and you'll get two or more harvests out of it. Though I doubt I will get any more than this one, as it is late in the season, I figure why not try anyway.

 When looking at what's left after gathering the lettuce an initial sadness comes over me. My once beautiful crop is now reduced to a few disfigured plants. I realize, though, that this is what they were here for. Without their destruction I cannot live and if it wasn't for the giving of other plants before these I could have never grown them. There is a lesson to be learned here, there is a connection to be made.

I can now return from my garden, fresh veggies in hand, and enjoy the fruits (vegetables) of my labor. Just the first celebration of hard work, long days, and great care.