The Tomato Garden

Three years ago life put a beautiful patch of soil in our home where, fortunately, we decided to plant two little tomato plants. We hadn’t grown herbs, fruits, or vegetables before, but these two little plants survived and flourished in spite of our inexperience. This is the origin of our Tomato Garden.

The cherry tomatoes’ sweetness that was offered to us made irresistible caring for them. They grew so much, not only the two plants we originally planted, but also a little volunteer who came with them and arrived to our garden, a “Better Boy” tomato seed.

Caring for these tomato plants has been so enriching — I started to understand that a plant is not like a human, cutting her stems, leaves, or fruits is not necessarily harmful to them. On the contrary, this is often what prevents them from getting rotten or infested by some of the many little insect creatures I got to meet through this experience.

Another enriching regular little creature I encountered, was the tomato hornworm, which is not actually a worm, but a caterpillar, a quite large caterpillar that loves tomatoes. At the beginning, I considered removing them from the plants, but why should I eat all the tomatoes or prevent them from eating the leaves that would only eventually fall. There was more than plenty for all of us.

Plus, I really enjoyed being surprised when out of the blue I suddenly noticed one of these tomato lovers just in front of me. A little fellow previously lost from my sight given their green camouflage.

The importance of water and the time of the day when one waters and how this differs through the seasons is something one learns when caring for these tomatoes. If I water too little, the plants’ fruits start looking yellowish and pale. If I water all of the plant (leaves and stems) or too late at night, prepare for unexpected insect visitors.

Finally, one learns that in this land tomatoes are not perennial plants. Their lifetime is closer to a year. So, as time passed, I saw them slowly dry up and become thin and brown like a branch… I couldn’t dare to cut them. I just saw them continue their path. Their path led to these visitors, which I called Bowsers (as they were little, spiky and roundish Mario Bros Bowser looking like creatures). They gave me goosebumps and started to spread all over the plant. At this point, I understood it was time to let them go. So, I knelt next to their root and cut them down.

I thought “Maybe I will plant some tomato plants again next year”, but this didn’t happen, it was not necessary. It turned out that the plants I cut, were not totally gone. As the weather became warmer, little plants started to emerge from under the ground. The little seeds of our two little cherry plants had not left, they were just preparing to restart their life above ground, once again.

“In naming the plants who shower us with goodness, we recognize that these are gifts from our plant relatives, manifestations of their generosity, care, and creativity. When we speak of these not as things or products or commodities, but as gifts, the whole relationship changes. I can’t help but gaze at them, cupped like jewels in my hand, and breathe out my gratitude.”

Robin Wall Kimmerer