Full disclosure: I like oldies and classic rock.
Well...some oldies and classic rock...like the Rolling Stones and Van Morrison, for instance. And lately, as it's getting chillier and chillier, I've had that song "Turn, Turn, Turn," by the Byrds, stuck in my head. "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, a time to reap that which is planted..."
Despite my observance that this is true, I still feel sad that the summer/growing season is coming to an end. It's sad when things end. And I'm sad to bid farewell to my little urban garden, after creating and tending to it for six months.
Which clearly explains why my Carmen and yellow bell pepper plants now live inside, under an UV light, and why I step outside to tuck my beans in with a beach blanket every night. I'm just not ready to let go.
But what is this desire to cling on to that we enjoy, instead of being more gracious about enjoying and releasing and then moving on? Shouldn't I be all yogic and zen and "it's the way of the universe, man" in my tie-dyed yoga unitard? (Or is that just my stereotypical vision of a yogi?!)
Anyway, I steeled my will, gave up hope that the green tomatoes still clinging to the vine were going to somehow ripen, and ripped the plant out to free up space to plant lettuce--a heartier crop for colder temps.
Side note on lettuce-growing: um...those seeds are TINY. Minuscule. Minute. Itty-bitty. Teeny-weeny. Get the picture?
Additionally, they need to be planted half an inch apart, in rows two inches apart, and covered under one-quarter of an inch of dirt. Um...do you know how small all of those measurements are? My big clumsy fingers could barely manage to pick up a seed at a time!
So basically, I got impatient and sprinkled them haphazardly around and then sprinkled some dirt over them. We'll see how/if that works.
One thing I have definitely learned this season: plants WANT to grow. They want to survive. They want to live. They will surmount incredible odds to make this happen. Whether it's a tomato plant that grew from a discarded shell out of a carpet, or plants that made it through the ten plagues, they really do have amazing resilience. Sort of like people, but, you know, greener and leafier :)