Friends, Farmers, and others who shudder at the encroaching winter, I must share photos of my babies.
Those who chuckled when I planted pintos while everyone else prepared their garden for winter; those who laughed when I posted pictures of my baby beans, take a gander. My wee ones made it. Next week one of my favorite holidays, Halloween, is upon us. During that week I shall pluck the remaining beans from the vine.
Picking beans in October. Tell me; is there any place more glorious than the South?
Carrying reclaimed water, I have coddled and encouraged these babies. Not because I possess the power to actually make anything grow, but because I so enjoy watching miracles such as this happen.
Rough tendrils wrapped around sticks and traveled into the prized Japanese maple. I did nothing to correct the vines. A child must grow where it must in order to seek the sun.
Pouring love and pride, I sprinkled used coffee grounds and tea leaves into the soil. Egg shells and a dash of milk (that was past its prime) added calcium. Even beans need a bit of calcium in order to grow up big and strong.
Temperatures dipped during the night. Daylight lessened. Darkness arrived earlier each afternoon. Leaves fell. Still the beans bloomed.
Positioning a mirror between the deck slats that reflected the sun’s rays, I focused the light on the plants and whispered, “I think you can.”
They did not disappoint.
Of course the harvest isn’t as plentiful as during the summer. That wasn’t my intent. My purpose was to grow something up until the very moment the icy breath appears. Soon a frost will blanket my deck planter. Only then will I remove the vines, dig out the glass door in the basement and plant the winter greens. For now, I give the smaller beans every possible moment to develop and mature. Friends, fledgling gardeners, and those who dread winter, next year you can do the same. “I think you can.”
Renea Winchester is an award-winning author. Visit her website at www.reneawinchester to learn more.
Renea Winchester 