It’s September 1 and my vegetable garden is fading away. Yes, even my hardy Roma tomato plant, bearer of at least two dozen luscious tomatoes, is dying back and in a few days will be –dare I say it?–deceased.
Even the single cucumber plant which crawled quickly everywhere, up the fence, outside the fence and threatened the life of my tomato plants by sending out tendrils to grab onto them and then shade them with huge green leaves as big as my hand, yes, even that vine which gave me huge curling cucumbers is turning yellow.
I’ve got two or three other tomato plants which will yield bright red fruit in a week or two. And, apparently nothing can kill the dark green basil plants which still are thriving, even after having harvested some of their leaves last week to make pesto.
Nearly every morning, I sit at my patio and check out the progress of my garden. Many times I thought :”Hey, there are at least a dozen sermons here.” I see life and growth there and flowers which turn into fruit. I see tiny holes in the leaves of my pepper plants and think “an enemy has done this.” I
All life is born, thrives and dies. Perennials seem to cheat death, though, by coming back each year. The seeds of tomorrow are in the flowers of today. My garden, though, has no perennials and I’ll have to plant again next year.
My own life is slowing down. Energy is hard to come by these days. Whatever seeds I have sown are beginning to spring to life as I slip toward death.
As a Resurrectionist, I do see things differently. I see more hope.