Gardening is, at its core, an act of optimism. You take tiny seeds, bury them in the ground, and genuinely believe you’ll remember what you planted and where.
Spoiler alert: you will not.
Still, there’s joy in it. Deep, muddy, sun-on-your-back joy.
Gardening slows you down whether you want it to or not. You can’t rush a seed, no matter how often you check on it. You water. You wait. You wonder if you’re doing it right. Then one day something sprouts, and suddenly you’re emotionally invested in a plant that didn’t exist last week. And then there’s the mystery phase of gardening.
At some point every season, something pops up and you think, Is this a vegetable? A flower? A weed that’s about to ruin my plans? The tag is gone. Your handwriting from early spring is now completely unrecognizable.
You stare at the plant like it might confess if you squint hard enough. You let it grow “just in case.” You water it. You defend it from being pulled. You emotionally support it.
Weeks later you either triumphantly announce, “I KNEW IT WAS A SQUASH,” or quietly accept that you’ve been lovingly nurturing a very healthy weed.
There’s also joy in the daily routines. Morning garden walks with tea checking on plants like they’re coworkers you don’t entirely trust. Noticing new leaves, blooms, or the first tomato that’s almost red but not quite, and deciding to check again in an hour….For research.
Gardening humbles you in ways nothing else can. One plant will thrive despite complete neglect, while another will perish even though you followed every rule and whispered encouragement. Gardening teaches you patience, resilience, and how to accept that sometimes nature simply has other plans.
And when harvest time comes?
That’s pure magic. Pulling food from the ground that you grew yourself feels like winning a very small, very personal lottery. It tastes better. It feels better. It’s healthier for you. You’ll tell everyone about it, whether they asked or not.
But the real joy of gardening isn’t perfection or productivity. It’s the laughter when things go sideways, the quiet moments of tending something living, and the reminder that growth—like gardening—is messy, unpredictable, and absolutely worth it.
Even if you have no idea what half your garden is.
Thank you for reading, if you would like, share, or comment I would appreciate it.
#gardening #work #takingcare #monday #livinghealthy #eatingbetter
Backyarding And Kids 
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