Scrooge: The Gardener Version
December 20th, 2016
I was dozing on the La-Z-Boy with the season’s first seed catalog when this old guy in chains wakes me up.
Before me is a scraggly, bearded fellow with compost-stained hands and what looks like worm castings on his boots.
“I am the Ghost of Gardens Past,” he says. “Behold!”
Suddenly, I’m looking at me in my first garden.
It’s a puny thing (the garden, not me).
It’s barely 10-foot square and laid out in little blocks, just like Mel Bartholomew instructed in his “Square-Foot Gardening” book.
The plants look like the “before” picture in a Miracle-Gro ad.
The soil is the consistency of brown Play-Doh.
I watch as twentysomething George proudly harvests the week’s bounty: a lollipop-sized head of broccoli, four pea pods and a radish.
A Victory Garden it is not. It’s barely an Embarrassing Defeat Garden.
Yet the smile on my face says there’s some kind of perverse satisfaction taking place.
“So what do you make of that?” asks Ghost Past.
“That I should’ve taken up handball instead?” I reply.
“Yeah,” says Ghost, “but also that in gardening, as in life, we grow from our shortcomings. We get wiser by taking stock of our mistakes and imperfections. And most of all, it’s the process that matters just as much as the results. Maybe more so.”
“Hmmm, you’re onto something there, O Soiled One,” I murmur as I doze off again.