About a month ago I planted a variety of vegetables in our garden. Soon after that, I began to notice that a few of the plants had missing leaves, especially a turnip that I began cultivating in the winter. Indoors, for those wondering.
This particular turnip plant has an uncanny resilience. I repotted it three times during the winter and ninety percent of its leaves have been eaten, yet, it continues to flourish.
Watching it grow during the winter gave me great joy and now it nourishes whatever nocturnal creature feeds on it. It dawned on me that from the tiniest of turnips to the largest of redwoods, everything serves a purpose.
I’ve seen countless videos on planting and met many people with vegetable gardens and each time a barrier is constructed to keep the wildlife out. I admit that in the past I have done the same. This year I even went as far as buying chicken wire fencing to protect my precious crop. Then I started thinking more about that little turnip plant.
What does it know that I don’t?
Let’s cut to the chase! Somehow, that turnip knows that its purpose was first to bring me joy during the winter and now to continue to feed the displaced wildlife. Okay, that last part about the displaced wildlife is a whole different blog for another day.
Chicken-wire fencing in hand, I came to the conclusion that I might not be as smart as a turnip. I didn’t put the fencing up around the vegetable garden. I learned from that turnip that everyone has a purpose and we all have to do is find it. In this case, my purpose started way back last winter with that turnip plant and now with this garden.
The chicken-wire fencing sits in my garage, still rolled up. The turnip plant continues to grow leaves that get eaten and when my vegetables grow, I will share them with the wildlife. Let’s hope they are as generous.
Before I go any farther, and so you do think hypocritical of me, I do have blueberries that are netted. The netting has been up for a few years and the blueberry branches are poking through a fair amount. The birds can have their share. All can say is that we all have our limits.
What comes to mind now is the groundhog who visited each night to each the peaches that fell on the ground. I didn’t have to pick up the rotted remanences thanks to him. The more interesting part is that he placed the pits in small piles. I like to think his purpose was to help me clean the yard. I hope he comes back this year.
Looking for our purpose, we never know what might turnip.
Let me know your thoughts about this blog.
"Writing is the flow of life through words on a page. We all have this talent to share." Luca DiMatteo
For the latest blog, please sign up for my monthly newsletter.