What the garden does

"You visit the earth and water it, you greatly enrich it; the river of God is full of water; you provide the people with grain, for so you have prepared it." — Psalm 65:9-10

I was in the garden by six this morning and out by eight, which is the deal I have made with July, and in between I picked tomatoes and pulled weeds and watered the beans and none of it required thinking, which is the best thing about the garden at this time of year. The garden knows what it is doing. I just show up and do what it tells me.

There are four Rutgers on the counter now and two of them are big enough to share and I will take one to Edna tomorrow or the day after. The cherry tomatoes are coming faster than I can eat them and I have started putting the extras in a bowl by the back door in case anyone comes by, which nobody does in this heat except the mail carrier and I do not think he wants cherry tomatoes but I have not asked.

The garden at peak production is a thing that does not need me to have opinions about it. The tomatoes come in and the beans come in and the weeding gets done and the watering gets done and tomorrow is tomorrow and the garden will still be here when I get to it.

Lord, the garden does not know what tomorrow is. That is a mercy.

Ruby keeps a collection of prayers at her kitchen table. You can find them here.