We’ve got a new thing going in our neighborhood: a community vegetable garden. With old houses on small lots, everyone on our block has minimal room for planting vegetables. Enter the old Zion (now Redeemer) lot that is empty—full of potential, but empty nonetheless. So with the blessing of our pastor Tobey, the neighbors came together and planned a large garden plot to divide among five of us.

And now we’re geeks, garden geeks. Hovering, nurturing, worrying garden mamas, if you will. We’ll meet each other in among the tomatoes and cucumbers, and converse aloud about what type of mulch to use, who last watered, and how often you have to do some weeding. (I’m using grass, I’m grateful for a neighbor whose sprinkler hits my patch and to God who watered for me last night, and my husband is my hoeing hero. If you were wondering.)

I decided this morning that the term “geek” applies because we all get so excited about the progress of our little plants. Today I’m astounded at the pumpkin seeds that were planted last in my space. None of the little gourd seeds grew, but I’ve got a few amazingly healthy blue pumpkins whose leaves are bigger than my hand. I fear they will dominate my patch and perhaps some of the closest neighbor’s, too, but for today I’m just excited at how healthy they are. The Roma plants are all doing well, including a recently transplanted seedling. The broccoli and cauliflower plants, courtesy of the Wittmanns, are strong and sturdy. The cucumbers demand a strong tower to climb, and numerous pea plants are already climbing… on the weeds and grasses nearby. How funny to see their small tendrils curling around a stalk of grass that crept onto garden turf. Clearly, I need to get some stakes in there pronto.

I love our gardens. I love the gorgeous perennials and annuals Jeremy has carefully encouraged into bloom—and that Liv has assisted in planting—and I love the growing vegetables in my garden patch. I may not read a book all summer (another post for another day), but I will be outside, rejoicing in the beauty of God’s growing things.