Maybe Gardener

As I write this blog entry, November is four days away. At this time in a normal weather year, the summer vegetables would be done and gone. I would have removed the summer plants and tucked in the garden until next spring. We all know 2011 not been a normal weather year.

I have cleaned out the dried and broken corn stalks, the zucchini vines that shrived into spiny twine, and the tomato plants - except the one last tomato plant that still has two great tomatoes. I could not bring myself to rip it from the ground.

I know the plant looks ridiculous - especially since I pruned back most of the spent leafless branches and the rest of the bed is empty.

I know the last two tomatoes will probably not taste anything nearly as good as the sweet delicious globes we harvested in August.

I know the frost will be here faster than you can say “Under the Solano Sun” and the plant will be finished for sure.

But for some reason this year, holding on to one last bit of summer seems to be helping me ease into the short and dark days of fall and winter. I look out the kitchen window and see the bright red tomato ripening and it makes me smile. And the tomato plant is holding on to summer, too. There is cluster of new flowers opening on the other side of the plant.

November tomatoes. (photo by Sharon Leos)

I was told a compassionate gardener would let the plant go after a long season of producing tomatoes. Maybe I am being a selfish gardener by keeping the plant in the garden. Maybe I am being a compassionate gardener by allowing the plant to fulfill its productive destiny. Maybe I am an experimental gardener by growing beyond the normal season! Maybe if I get some plastic sheeting and grow lights… or, maybe not.

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