In the days that follow I wake up before dawn, eager for the Sun to come up so I can go and check up on my babies. Some days I sneak out with a flashlight while it is still dark. I am afraid I will miss out on something very important... their first smile, first step, first word... first date.
The changes unfolding before my very eyes are astounding.
How is it possible that inside the tiny seed there was contained this huge growing, changing plant that bears no resemblance to the seed from which it sprung?
I feel blissfully out of my league, out of control and it's a good place to be.
Each day as the Gardener and I stand there with the gentle trickle coming out of the hose, I am rewarded anew. The Gardener assures me that that there is a lot more going on in the unseen world of the plant - the secret life of the roots buried deep in the ground, hidden from my sight, the mysterious interaction between water, air, soil and sunlight. But what I get to see makes me appreciate each stage of growth in its own merit. I remember how I used to care only about the production of fruit, and a different kind of sadness encompasses my heart. I realize now I was not caring for the entire plant but only what it can produce for me. The revelation makes me quite disgusted with myself and I wonder if I might be doing the same thing in any other area of my life.
When I see the first pair of nursery-yellow flowers on the tomatoes, it's a time for a party. We string balloons along the fence, on the trees and bushes and invite all our neighbors to celebrate with us. Most of them are not quite sure what the party is all about, but they all love parties, and so they come.
The Gardener has friends who run a catering business. When they bring the food, it's an art festival for all the senses. It looks so good that nobody wants to be the first to dig in. I do the honors, my hunger urging me on, and without too much encouragement the guests follow the suit. Everyone seems to have great time. I look at the Gardener and even though this may be my house and my back yard, it is clear to me that he is the real host.