Several potatoes are growing wild in my garden. At least a dozen plants have popped up and are smiling at me.
It's good to see them. I have a limited amount of room in my garden so it is devoted to salad spices and a few other things including a few carrots and peas.
The spuds are a bonus and I am grateful for them.
What happened is we compost. Each year the compost is dug into my garden and thus random veggies struggle up each year and I commonly leave them be.
We had potatoes from my FIL this year and as they sat awaiting their fate they do as potatoes do, they sprouted. It is those ambitious little sprouts that got their start in a box in a darkened corner of my kitchen that are now waving their leaves in the breeze and helping themselves to the nutrient-rich soil bed.
I weeded them today, assuring them they have as much right to be there as anything deliberately planted. As I did I realized life finds its own level. It will start where it can, when it can, and what it can, and it will survive as best it can.
What more can we ask?
Madrigal: Poetic Form
19 minutes ago