Still, still, my beating heart. After waiting nearly a week, I sneak into the nursery to see if any babies have yet peeked out of their compost beds. And there, there are tomatoes coming up--slender leaves tied at the top with the seed husk, pointy green leaves spread wide.
|This sunflower sprout knows everything about|
becoming a pale yellow beauty
|A juicy, tender cucumber in its early stages|
These seeds were not too old, of course, just last year's packet. And for several days nearly all the Things I get to do today revolve around checking for yet one more healthy baby to pop out of the soil in its own way: slender, thread-necked tomatoes, chunky-necked cucumbers, plump-necked sunflowers.
|Righteous Red Zinnia|
Seeds that are six-years old are showing green leaves and white necks, and I am thrilled. So much life is still in that little brown speck--the wisdom to make a huge plant with dozens of tomatoes.
My heart beats in appreciation for this miracle--the miracle of birth and resurrection.