Who plants a seed beneath the sod
and waits to see believes in God.
~ author unknown
I’ve planted.
I’m waiting to see.
So, ipso facto, I believe in God, right?
Of course!
But do I really believe these crude little semi-matching trellises fashioned after a how-to in This Old House magazine will be entwined with Black-eyed Susan vine, moonflowers, and morning glory before summer is through?
Do I really have faith that colorful poppies will be waving in the breeze in this spot next year, just because I sprinkled some tiny black specks in the dirt?
Do I really think I won’t be planting pots of basil (to match my bird-in-the-hand pot of rosemary) because this will planter be awash in all the basil I could want?
Can I really foresee the day when this pole with its silly-small birdhouse cap will be a sea of orange nasturtiums — a cheery oasis, even on rainy days like today?
Or that my “doomed” ash will enjoy its numbered days in a blaze of (morning) glory?
Not so sure — me and seeds don’t usually get along.
But, but, but…
I planted. I’m waiting. And for now, the rest is up to Dad and Mom (Our Father and Mother Nature). In other words, everything is in the best possible hands.
Writing by Ear 