Lessons from the Garden: Lesson One

Today begins a new series intended as light-hearted parables for modern times. In the best of these parables, I will extract a meaningful lesson gleaned from my tasks in the garden; in the less well cultivated, I will impose some irrelevant and contrived principle onto the mundane, otherwise meaningless acts of manual labor I willfully undertake. So, let the adventure begin!

Lesson One: All Good Beans are Worth the Wait

Fine weather and meticuluous attention to my green beans have finally yielded a return on my investment:

(Third harvest of the season, from left to right: zuccini, Japanese cucumber, Fortex green beans, Kentucky Blue green beans.)

My experience this season has taught me that gardening is a discipline requiring zen-like patience; every step in the process seems like an excercise designed to train compulsive rushers and curb their unrestrained haste. One need wait for the weather to become warm enough to plant seeds. Then one need wait for the seeds to germinate (to me, this always seems like the most agonizing step). Then one need wait for the seedlings to bear fruit. Finally, one need wait for the fruit to mature and ripen.

The harrowing demands of this regimen of delayed gratification notwithstanding, ultimately I find gardening a peaceful, relaxing practice. Sweet, crunchy, fresh, and organic, home-grown green beans are definitely worth the time and effort. They are great sauteed with a little butter and brown sugar, or boiled, chilled and served with a raspberry vinegarette. Another easy method of preparation I invented recently is to sautee frenched green beans in butter and garlic, and then add in about a quarter of a diced fresh tomato. Fantastic!

Moral of the story: all good beans are worth the wait--even if the beans' ripening is late, the gardener needn't be irate. He'll be rewarded with a spate [of legumes], and irritation is an unseemly trait. Instead of having forbearance-hate, one simply ought to trust in fate, which, in time, brings beans by the crate--and often even by the freight (maybe seven, maybe eight!)