Not to be discouraged, last year I doubled the size of my garden, and planted more squash, zucchini and corn. It was a big job, mostly because our soil, known by locals as “black gumbo,” is almost 100% clay. I did the best I could, trying to fix the clay issue by adding innumerable bags of garden soil and tons of mulch.
I had several zesty looking plants at the beginning of the season. Flowers even. But they began to fade with the heat of the summer, combined with our drought here. Last year’s crop? Zero.
This year I was pleasantly surprised to see that a lot of the wood mulch and the layer of mulched leaves from our oak trees had broken down. The soil seemed much easier to work. I planted a few perennials for a cutting garden (some of which have already died).
But I’d been burned on the vegetable idea. I didn’t even try. Not this year.
Then one day about a month ago, as I was out tending my fledgling perennials, I saw a few leaves coming up through my thick layer of mulch. I recognized those leaves. I tried not to be hopeful. Last week I looked more carefully.
What do you know, this is growing:
As if having kids didn’t didn’t do a good enough job of it, God finds yet another avenue to keep me from putting my faith in myself.
It's not the one who plants or the one who waters who is at the center of this process but God, who makes things grow. 1 Corinthians 3:7
I will give You thanks for ever, because You have done it. Psalm 52:9