I have wanted a garden but circumstances have made that difficult. Real estate in New York City is tricky and with each decision, sacrifices must be made. With a garden came a small kitchen, no office, but a short walk to the train. With an office (i.e. a place to write), came a larger kitchen, a longer walk, no outdoor space.
So the mind navigates these twists and turns and, somehow, we end up with a place, a home.
I have found ways to grow the things I don’t actually know how to grow. On the sun-soaked sill, on the shaky fire escape. This year, I thought, I’ll try something. Tomatoes from seed and if I fail, I fail.
Look. They’ve germinated. Now I wait for true leaves. The plant beside it grows wild. And I learn something new.