Just how patient am I? Will I venture out when the snow has dissipated from my snowy cul-de-sac in the woods, or will I be brave and carefully drive the few blocks to the market for a few essentials? (where IS this forecast rain to wash it all away anyway???).
They say with age comes wisdom. I will wait. On that note, I ponder...patience. Gardeners have a lot of it. How could we not?
To plant a tree
When you are young, planting a tree is like planting tomorrow. Tomorrow will come (you assume in your blissful ignorance), and you will enjoy the shade and the fruit yourself. When you are old, planting a tree is like planting the future...one you may never see, but you have the satisfaction of knowing that one day, someone else will enjoy the shade and the fruit. Both perspectives require patience...
To plant a seed
Sometimes we see the nearly immediate result of seed planting. When the soil is quite warm at the height of summer, the beans you plant today may very well pop up tomorrow (for a kid, this still requires an inordinate amount of patience), but most likely you'll have to wait for the required magic of moisture, warmth and light to stimulate growth. This usually happens under a bit of dirt, so each morning when you make your rounds and stare at the carefully sifted dirt, expecting little sprouts to emerge, you must exhibit...yes...patience. Carrots test my patience greatly. They only germinate (like most of us) under pretty refined circumstances, and require perfectly composted soil and shoulder room to grow in. Then you wait. Waiting gets hard. It could take weeks! The lovely ferny tops start to grow and look lush and abundant, but don't be fooled, those carrot roots need time and space to get big enough to eat. The first two or three you pull may disappoint you...inch long rootlets not even big enough for a nibble. This disappointment is the result of impatience. .. the yang of patience.
To make compost
The idea of recycling garden refuse into rich and powerful amendments to the soil that is free for the making is a great inducement to try it. It would be so much easier to call up the local compost supplier of your choice and have a few yards dumped near the garden to be spread by willing labor, or "blown" around the garden for a fee. Making and processing your own compost is truly a labor of intense commitment and faith. That the banana peels and onion skins and eggshells will really decompose tidily with the leaves and spent veggie carcasses and not stink or draw vermin and will become this black gold the organic growers talk about is another exercise in...patience. If you don't have a pricey tumbling mechanism to turn your compost pile, and chose the static method, as I must, then you wait...and wait...and wait. It may take a full year to harvest your very own black gold. Once you've turned, and sifted your treasure, and then applied it to the privileged plants (only the most precious get this treasure...if you have a large garden you never have enough), you wait again...to see the results of your beneficence. Are the cabbages and beets more robust? Will the persimmon tree make fruit this year?
If I have the patience for all this, then surely I have the patience to wait a little longer to drive to the market...
