Confession: I’ve read many stories about farmers with crop damage, and wondered how it would feel.
I thought I would mind the loss of money, but in our miniscule case it’s – miniscule.
I thought I would mind the loss of time, but I don’t begrudge the few minutes it took to drop seeds in the ground, to tend and weed.
I thought I would mind the loss of product, and I do, but it’s not that…
I didn’t expect questions and no answers: What did I do wrong? did I plant too close? too shallow? How turns the good rain-blessing into curse?
I didn’t know it would feel like like children, having watched them grow and cheered each step with pride.
There will be another year, another planting. Summer goes on, and life grows in circles. My other green children are thriving.
But I didn’t know how vulnerable the broken stalks would look.