Yes it’s cheaper and easier to just buy herbs and vegetables at the market but…
It’s just not the same as growing your own, as I’m sure any gardener can attest.
When you grow your own food, you know where it came from and the effort it took to produce it.
You’ve dealt with seeds that didn’t sprout.
Seedlings that sprouted and shriveled up.
Plants that grew a bit then seemed to die for no reason (probably neglect).
Bug infestations, animals, and disease.
The fences and remedies that never seem to work 100%.
The daily and weekly maintenance of watering and feeding and pruning.
Cleaning up the fallen dead leaves and branches.
Flowers that never turned into fruit.
The plants that eagerly bolt and seed before you’ve barely had a taste.
The waiting and waiting and more waiting.
Until finally you see a flower, or notice the plant can be cut back or harvested a bit.
Is it enough to keep you going?
It’s enough for the plant and it’s just getting started.
And before you know it, it’s time to harvest, again, you already took your first harvest, and now it’s your second, third, and fourth.
Now you lost count and the plant has been giving and giving.
And you can see that the end is coming near.
And you ask yourself was it worth it? Is it already over? Is that it?
That went so fast. And yes it did.
You remember what the plant looked like when it was a seed.
And then you added some water to it and like a rabbit in a hat, out popped two leaves and a stem, making it a sprout.
Then it grew a little taller, a little bolder, a little bigger and became a seedling.
Stretching in both directions.
It exclaimed that this is not enough! And it sprawled its jagged white roots feeling for food.
So out it went and nature letting it be, the plant eventually established itself and within weeks grew into selfless giving being.
And after all that giving, the plant reminded you what else it needed to do.
As if it grew tired of reaching for the stars, the flowers stopped budding and the bottom turned brown and brittle.
The deep dark green top rapidly fades too, as if the color ran out.
Drawing your attention to the last remaining flowers, now mostly studded with seed.
Patiently waiting for the slightest touch or a gust of wind, to sprinkle the earth like a gentle summer rain.
And if you do this right, you’re right there with it, as they fall into the palm of your hand.