Flourishing

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist 

The late July weather was spectacular, chilly mornings, warm afternoons and blue skies overhead. I thought I must have been dreaming; but then, when we left the creek valley and headed up town, we realized that the uplands were no different. We saw corn stalks towering along the sides of the road. Plump soy plants covered fields that stretched to the horizon. The season was something to remember.

My own crops, however, were far from spectacular, although my weeds grew hearty and plentiful.  The deer ate my tomatoes just as they ripened. June bugs devoured my hops. 

My cucumbers either drowned in the rain or their leaves turned parchment yellow in the sun. All I could do was look at photos of my friend's bountiful harvests to see what might have been. Greg and I nibbled on our few surviving cherry tomatoes. Picked right off the vine, warmed by the sun, their flavor exploded in our mouths.

"Oh well," I told myself, "Next year will be better. I will have the perfect garden!" My resolve was set, and I stepped back from my gardening shame to enjoy what really mattered.

I couldn’t imagine my life without the creek. Its water ran full and clear over the grey fossil rocks. It was just right for frolicking teenaged granddaughters who were visiting from back east. My heart was full. The hours passed easily.

I saw that the dappled shade along the valley road had become the perfect place for two city girls to practice their soccer moves. Their energy amazed me. I strolled along with the dog at a leisurely pace, while they skipped and kicked their way down the road. I could have followed along watching them and listening to their laughter, forever.

Then, the cool evenings made for the best porch sitting, and story-telling, and playing the most silly games. They had found some sort of sticky things when we went up town to go to the store. The sticky things somehow ended up on their faces. We laughed some more.

It was then that I realized that I was totally content. My garden might not have flourished, but my life most certainly had. Two city girls had reminded me to put everything in perspective. Light and laughter were certainly flourishing in the creek valley weather.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.