little deformed bean

Two months ago when spring was starting to hit here I became obsessed with plants. I went out daily, collecting pieces and parts from plants that were overgrown in the neighborhood. I put them in water and in soil and created for myself, a garden. The garden grew.

We bought wine barrels, cut in half after they were deemed too leaky or too old for the aging of wine. We filled them with soil from the farm supply store, a store full of animal feed, fertilizers, water troughs and baby chicks; a type of store we used to frequent growing up. I blew kisses at the baby chicks and oogled over them like a mother with a newborn baby. I'm always a little embarrassed about this, but I can't help myself. They are too precious in their halos of fluff.

I made daily trips to the local nurseries and bought seeds and starts. I collected wood stakes from the reclaimed wood store. I have religiously checked on the growth of the plants: the pole beans, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, zucchini, onions and sweet peas.

The beans are almost always the most exciting in their early days. It is almost as if you can sit there and watch them grow, reaching up and putting out new leaves. Their heads were the first to break the surface of the soil. They shed their skins and split in half to reveal their first true leaves, in miniature. One bean in particular was quick to reach the surface and open like popcorn. But the little leaves that were hidden between its fleshy fruit were not fully formed. They were like little hands without fingers.

Everyday without fail, I would walk outside to check on the little deformed bean, giving it encouragement, not having the heart to pluck it from the earth and lay its little body beside the other healthy beans. So I watched it. Wondering if it would pull through with a new set of fully formed leaves. But the fleshy bean shrank as it fed the plant, and it did not grow. And today it is turning brown, out of energy and shriveling. Soon, it will begin to break down. It will return to the soil. It will disintegrate into water and carbon and sugars. It will become the soil that feeds the other beans.

Bye bye little deformed bean. I could never be a farmer.