An Entirely Reasonable Interest in Cucmbers

This is technically my third year growing vegetables at this particular house, although sheer busyness meant I didn't really plant much last year. Either way, though, I am learning and believe I have officially graduated from "Complete Beginner" to "Person Who Has Slightly More Confidence Than Last Year".

That said, this year's garden is doing well. The cucumbers are cucumbering. The tomatoes are tomatoing as best they can for a month that isn't August. The peppers are attempting to become peppers. Every morning brings fresh developments, and every evening I find myself wandering outside "just to check on things" before I start dinner.

I've also learned quite a lot over the past couple of growing seasons. Most of it was never mentioned in any gardening book.

1. Every happening looks like a medical emergency

A leaf turns yellow. Another leaf develops a mysterious spot, and something looks slightly droopy. The official song and dance of every gardener at some point, I suppose.

You go outside to check on things, and suddenly you're staring at one particular plant as though you've been called in to solve a complex medical case. Meanwhile, the plant is probably actually perfectly fine and has already moved on with its life.

Thank goodness for apps, and Google, and ChatGPT. They help.

2. You will develop favorites you'll pretend you don't have

Gardeners love to claim they treat all their plants equally.
This is a blatant-ass lie.

There is always going to be that one tomato plant that's doing especially well or that one bell pepper you've become emotionally invested in. One cucumber vine that seems particularly promising.

You may insist you don't play favorites. Your plants know otherwise.

3. Waiting for vegetables turns adults into surveillance specialists

I know exactly how large a very specific number of cucumbers were yesterday. This information serves no practical purpose, yet I will I check them again first thing when I get up this morning anyway.

With a veggie garden in your life, every day contains a progress report:

• Has it grown?
• Is it ready?
• Should I wait one more day?

At this point, I feel like I spend ore time and energy monitoring cucumbers than some people spend monitoring stock portfolios.

4. Pollinators become celebrities

A bee arrives and suddenly everything stops. Look at him go. What a professional! Excellent work ethic. Five stars and two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

The same applies to butterflies, especially when they decide to land nearby and pose for photographs as though they've been hired for the occasion.

5. Every harvest feels slightly illegal

Walking outside, picking a handful of radishes or fresh basil, and bringing it into the house to use immediately makes me feel like I've discovered some wonderful produce cheat code.

Like, I grew this. This came from my yard, and it is actual food I can cook, serve, and enjoy. That feeling never gets old.

6. You start speaking a very specific language

At some point, your conversations begin including phrases that would sound completely ridiculous to non-gardeners.

• "The tomatoes are setting fruit."
• "The squash seems happy today "
• "The peppers are finally doing something."

You start discussing plants as though they're coworkers with distinct personalities and ongoing workplace drama thrown in for good measure. It's awesome.

7. You'll enjoy some unexpected houseguests

One of my favorite parts of gardening has nothing to do with vegetables. It's some of the visitors. Naturally, I'm not talking about the ones nobody wants, like aphids or wasps. I mean the butterflies, bees, and colorful little birds.

Occasionally, something truly unexpected appears — like a little lizard — stares directly at you, and leaves without explaining itself. The garden attracts life, and life is endlessly entertaining.

8. Every morning comes with new plot developments

Once summer is underway, gardens seem to deliver a host of surprises every morning.

You walk outside and discover something wonderful bloomed overnight. Maybe a pepper appeared where there wasn't one yesterday, or a flower opened. Perhaps a vine wandered somewhere unexpected.

There's always another episode waiting for you. Some mornings it's a comedy, while others it's a mystery. Not so fond of the tragedies, but I guess those are part of it, too.

9. The victories are weirdly specific

So many hobbies a person could take up come with obvious achievements. But gardening gives you moments like:

• "I found a ladybug."
• "Holy shit, the basil looks (and smells) fantastic."
• "Wow, that cucumber is almost ready."
• "The tomatoes have finally tarted blushing."

And none of these things sound particularly exciting until they're happening in your own garden. Then they're literally making your day.

10. You're always low-key planning next year

This year's garden is still growing, and the vast majority of my vegetables haven't even reached their peak. And yet I've already caught myself thinking about next season:

• Maybe just one more variety of tomato
• Maybe more flowers next time
• One more raised bed can't hurt

Gardeners are always living in at least two growing seasons at once, one foot in the present and the other planted firmly in the middle of next spring. And it's a wonderful way to live, if you ask me.

When it comes to tending a veggie garden, the actual vegetables are great, of course. I genuinely look forward to every cucumber, tomato, and pepper that eventually makes its way into the kitchen.

Still, I suspect my favorite part of gardening isn't the harvest. I suspect I like having a reason to get up early, step outside every day, and see what happened while I wasn't looking even more.