I’ve had a vegetable garden for several years now. Some years have been better than others, and this one looks like it has promise.
There are only two plants that have survived for several years now. The first is a rosemary bush that has been there since the beginning. The second is a very stubborn strawberry plant.
Three years ago, the strawberry made itself at home on the edge of the garden. It never got particularly big and critters snagged most of the fruit before I could, so I decided not to add more in the ground the following year. However, the strawberry wasn’t ready to be done yet.
At the end of the season, I cleaned out the dead plants, and we began preparations for the next round. The one strawberry was still alive, so I left it alone and waited to see what happened.
Since it was fruitless that season, I decided to take it out so I could give something else its spot. The roots were deeper and thicker than I anticipated (which made me feel a little bad), but enough of it came up that I thought it was gone.
I was wrong.
By halfway through the season, it had grown back. It didn’t produce anything, but it is the most determined little plant I’ve ever seen.
This year, the season is just starting and that little plant is still there. This time, there’s a little surprise.
A tiny white flower. Hope for a harvest. A symbol of dogged determination.