All year long, I wait for the privilege of eating tomatoes still warm from the garden. I keep track of the blossoms on my tomato plants, I visit the first tomatoes that set on, and I watch them each day for signs that they have ripened. When the first few tomatoes come of the vines, it’s a glorious thing. The crop comes on slowly and I’ve not yet reached the stage of tomato abundance. But the signs are all there.
My zinnia seedlings seem to be tasty to the bunnies and other creatures who live in the backyard and I’ve started to despair of having bouquets to pick.
Gardening is like that: filled with prospect and hope only to suffer the folly of fate in the form of weather, animals, or some other misfortune.
So I practice patience and resolve and I remember to take time to appreciate the crops that do come my way.