May 9

If you've known me for a little while, you're likely aware that gardening was a big part of my life when I was growing up. We had huge gardens that produced a variety of veggies and flowers. One of my earliest memories involves sitting between rows and rows of fledgling plants, finding and squishing bugs with my fingers. (And yes, that idea now grosses me out. What can I say? I was something of a barefoot, scabby-kneed, dirt-under-the-fingernails country kid.)

Save tending to (and harvesting a bounty of fruit from) a few volunteer tomato plants at our last house, I've not done much gardening in recent history, but as I surveyed our new yard a few days ago, I realized that we have a lot (lot) more space here for growing things, including a set of currently-empty planter boxes. So I got to work.

I planted two types of tomatoes, lima beans, green beans, peas, and bell peppers. I'm not exactly starting at the right time, but we'll see what happens. So far, this is some of what's sprouted. And I'm happy with it.

There's something so beautiful and spirit-nourishing about watching a seed sprout and reach toward the sky. It's truly miraculous that an entire sustenance-producing plant can spring forth from something so tiny; from something that can look so dead. So for this reminder that miracles come in tiny (and often inconspicuous) packages and that even things that seem utterly lifeless can thrive once again, I'm thankful.