I went to water my community garden plot today. After a hot, dry weekend that I spent hiding in the freezing air conditioning at Readercon, I feared everything would be all crispy. Instead, the plants looked fine.
There’s a tomato just starting to turn yellowy orange. A baby eggplant hangs from a branch. Dragonflies were patrolling the air, including a big one with a fat white body and black bars on its wings. And the lettuces are forming solid little heads. Woodchucks did not stop them. I had no idea lettuces were so resilient!
So I twisted one of the heads off, washed it, and made it part of dinner. The crunch was amazing. And the taste, well, it tastes like Iceberg, with a subtle, but distinctive bitterness.
Writing Every Day 