Tatsoi, lettuce and white radish etc are growing. Typical fall/winter vegetables. Cabbage and chinese cabbage are ready to ripen soon. Broccoli and a variety of beans are prepared for the next spring.
This is a corner of the garden farm, a tiny farm. You may realize there are a lot of metal supporters stood around the farm like a fence. A intruder has come in the farm and left footprints everywhere. I have set them to avoid it coming in.
It is our cat, Hikaru, who does that mischief. He doesn't understand that he won't be welcomed in the farm however comfortable it may be for him to walk in the soft soil of the farm. The supporter fence did not work.
I have given it up to train him not to invade the farm. But I have decided to plant more number of vegetables. It won't disturb us so much even if he harms some in a large number of plants grown.
After harvesting the last lot of tomatoes, I have taken away all the tomato plants. Getting older, I find myself feeling sad to such plants finishing their lives.? Sentimentalism? Maybe, that's right. Anything mortal draws my interest and makes me feel sympathetic to it. It is a fact that we belong to such nature mortal.
Reading the last chapter of "Jean Christophe" by Romain Rolland recently, which was a favorite novel in my teenage days since it was recommended by a teacher at elementary school days, I was again touched with the last scene that Christophe meets a child who answers Christophe he is the day to be born. We are in or a part of the flow of life which goes from the past to the future, unknown to us. In the very last day of life, it is questioned if I could tell myself about own proper engagement in the flow and if I have lived it as it was required.
I would cook chicken and egg plants with the white radish harvested in the garden farm this evening. It is seasoned with vinegar soy sauce.
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