Joy Regardless of Success

So the pumpkins were a bit disappointing last year. There were loads of them all over the garden, but for some reason, they started rotting as soon as they got ripe. I brought a few inside, and when I opened them up the seeds inside were already sprouting, some already with a tint of green. I've seen seeds like that in tomatoes before. But I have no idea what causes it to happen. The pumpkins seem to have been a crossover between several types of pumpkins that I planted. All the plants produced identical pumpkins that didn't resemble any of the original pumpkins from which I had gathered the seeds. Reading about squash and pumpkins after the face, I discovered that they all cross-pollinate, and this kind of thing can happen. If I had read up on it before I did it, perhaps I would have had a different outcome. Having digital access to so much information all the time leaves me feeling like there is no excuse for not doing something right the first time around.

A recent visitor to my garden exclaimed over how I seem to get as much joy from my garden failures as I do from my successes. This is true. Gardening is one area of my life that I don't feel the need to be perfect in any way. The pattern on a leaf after a bug has finished eating it is as interesting to me as the perfection of the first cherry tomatoes that turn red. The way the small patch of lawn looks when the grass has grown and gone to seed is as entertaining as the straight clean lines of a careful mowing. Today I was surprised and delighted by the smell of the basil as I reached past it to pick a cherry tomato. My heart feels full when Im in my garden.