Oddments

In search of story

August 18.22: Coping, but barely

10 Comments

The almosts of the garden — I know them and yet I disbelieve. Almost ripe. Almost ready. The bud on the vine, swaddling life snugly within itself, almost a melon, almost a squash, almost a morning glory. I know what it will be and yet I disbelieve. The wonder of it is as new as the almost itself.

To watch is to disbelieve. It cannot be that Puritan-plain dirt conjures such richness of tapestry and ornament, emerald and amethyst, filigree of leaf and tendril. From the muslin of February to the brocade of August there is nothing believable. In a slow burst, the almosts bloom to opulence in velvety defiance of winter’s naysayers.

In the almost is the breath-stop, the cannot-be, that gossamer moment that hovers like the hummingbird I cannot hold.

 

 

Practicing prose poetry

with thanks to my son’s tomato forest.

10 thoughts on “August 18.22: Coping, but barely

  1. Maureen, you’re not practicing prose poetry, you’ve nailed it! Beautifully done. And the perfect photo to marry it with. Enjoy those almost tomatoes when they become full-fledged tomatoes! Somebody needs to tame the tomato forest, it might as well be you!
    Ginger

    • Thanks, Ginger! Your encouragement is much appreciated! I do like the thought of being the one to “tame the forest.” This year he could start his own ketchup factory.

  2. Oh, I do envy your son and his tomato crop. I finally ripped the bandaid off and disposed of mine. I potted up a Passion Flower last fall, hauled it to South Carolina so it could grow, planted it, and finally it looks like I may get ‘one’ flower. You can bet I’ll be getting a photo of that one flower, but I doubt I’ll go through all that again next year. Happy Thursday!

    • Oh, no! You lost your whole tomato crop? How depressing. The Passion Flower is no small accomplishment, though, and perhaps it’s a little bit of compensation for the lost tomatoes, but still losing tomatoes is losing a part of summer. I can’t wait to see the photo of that flower; I bet it’s a beauty! Happy Thursday to you too, Judy!

  3. That’s beautiful, Maureen. It really is hard to believe (especially when no one eats them before we can pick them).

  4. To that “richness of tapestry and ornament” I must add the fantastic aroma I enjoy when rubbing against the leafs. It brings on the vision of tomato-mozzarella-basil combination… I can almost taste it!

    • I completely agree! I love that smell, not just for the vision of good eating but for the memories of my grandpa. He is always there in that wonderful smell!

  5. Almost impossible. The dirt is not as Puritan plain as it seems. I love all your plant cloths.

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