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Monday, August 1, 2011

come into the garden

Do you remember that song from Sesame Street, way back in the day?

Come into the garden its a beautiful sunny day.
Come into the garden and I know you'll want to stay.
Its a beautiful, sunny, day.

(Here it is if you want to relive your childhood)

This is what ran through my mind, like a soundtrack, as I sat in the hot sun picking beans with my mom in her garden the other day.

She has a proper garden. What a garden is SUPPOSED to look like. No containers on a patio, no sir, this a huge-ass two acre garden. With a cute little shed, painted to match the farm house, with birds nesting in the eaves. Little people-sized tools for small visitors, and giant metal dump trucks and diggers for when they get tired of "helping." Plenty of hats and gloves to go around, and usually iced tea waiting in the shed. Flowers that grace the end of rows of tomatoes. Huge patches of squash and bush beans and kale and the most beautiful swiss chard you could imagine.

A real garden.

So green, so alive, you can almost hear the plants growing, twisting around carefully placed stakes, drinking in the water, then curling up toward the sun.

I love it there.

So even with this giant belly and the aches and all I gladly doubled myself over next to my mom, sweeping aside the prickly bean leaves, to reveal an endless crop of yellow beans. Sun beating down. Sweat trickling down your neck. Swatting at bugs on your legs, hoping no garden snakes are cooling in the shade of the nearby tomato plants.



  1. What a wonderful song to be reminded of!
    I think it's a passion for vegetation as well as a green thumb that makes a "real" garden possible. I'm so appreciative whenever I come across one. It's everything Sesame Street promised it to be!


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