Gardening is magical to me. Planting, waiting, and harvesting is almost like waking up as a child on Christmas morning. It gets me excited and  the mystery never gets old. I’m not sure why i’m filled with such suspense and anticipation. I think some of it has to do with the fact that my gardening faith is very small. I doubt that there will be a product to my love and labor. But more than that, I think that it is all  just a small, quiet miracle of God that i get to be a part of.

Last year, my husband made me an organic garden. He brought in a truck full of  beautiful, fresh compost, and we all went to work on a 90* summer day in june.

here’s my youngest, who was more interested in the compost pile, as most ‘youngest’s’ are…and here’s my oldest carefully calculating the exact placement of each plant, as most oldest’s are prone to do…..

oh, and here is the baby bird that squawked at us during the entire process….he was not happy that we were putting a garden in ‘his’ front yard. ‘Gramps’  was his name, cause he looked like a grumpy, ill-humored, elderly man. 

see, i told you. look at those beady, accusing eyes. “What are you wipper snappers doin’ in my yard? Get on outta there for petessakes!” Can’t you just see him waving his cane in the air or a shot gun?

when i speak of being astounded by gardening, i think what really  amazes me is the growing process. I’m a city girl who grew up thinking food came from a store, but more specifically, that it came out of the fridge. I guess the thing that baffles me is that this…can turn into this…which then sprouts these…That’s SQUASH, people!!!!

or this….can turn into a zillion tomatoes.

and from a tiny plant, you can harvest this…..

it’s enough to make you ‘believe.’