Waiting

Tidbits for seasons of life:
Teenagers of the moment,
dive into the wet dew of morning,
weed, thin carrots and watch
them thrive into tomorrows.
What is this delayed gratification?

Everyday waiting, change, surprise,
never nothing.  On a winter’s morn
something is in the works,
a spade in the compost pile
turns steaming spectacles,
wriggling worms a riot.

     (excerpt from a long poem, Conversations with a Garden, by this blogger)

A miniature lightning strike?

"You should have planted fava beans when you planted peas," Virginia says. 

"Now you tell me," I say.  "Where were you when I planted the peas?"

All I can do now is watch what 90-degree days do to these cool-weather plants, and wait for next year to try again.  In the meantime, I think I'll enjoy their blossoms.