Since moving to New Jersey I've planted a garden every spring. Some
season's yields are better than others but that's life in the backyard
garden. Last Spring I decided to experiment with lettuce. I heard
lettuce was fragile and hard to raise. Nevertheless I bravely planted
my seeds. The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months and
before either I or the lettuce seeds knew it, Fall had arrived. Notice
that even in Fall I still referred to the lettuce as the lettuce seeds.
That's because nothing happened. No lettuce at all. Lots of okra and
chard and kale but no sign of a single lettuce leaf. And then, kind of
like it always does, Fall stepped aside for winter. This past winter
was long and it was cold. Really cold. Really long. We had a few
heavy snow storms, too. Winter has apparently finally ended and so I
went to the garden to prepare it for spring planting. I pulled up the
early and rapidly growing weeds reminding myself that a weed is just a
plant we don't want growing where it is currently growing. I raked away
pine needles and all sorts of other stuff. And then I saw it. One
little lettuce plant looking so bright and cheery. I was stunned. How
did this fragile little lettuce plant survive such a long and cold and,
yes, bitter winter? Clearly lettuce isn't as delicate as its reputation
would lead us to believe. Also, life turns to life just as the night
turns to the sunrise. I'm, of course, not going to eat that lettuce
plant. I think I'll just leave it alone and see how long it can keep
coming back. Perhaps none of us is as fragile as we have led ourselves
to believe. Perhaps that's why we just keep coming back for more time
in the sun.
