Tuesday, October 2, 2012
The bean stalks in our garden are pretty dried up now. Leaves yellowed—turning brown. Most of the bean pods are crisp to the touch.
Jeffrey picked out these particular varieties. I like to tease him when we look through seed catalogues, because I gravitate towards the "tried and true" varieties and he points out the unusual types. I'm sure we had a conversation about these beans when we were ordering seeds last winter, but I apparently had forgotten about it by the time summer came. One night I cooked up a pot of what turned out to be very leathery beans. And I asked Jeffrey, with a bit of irritation in my voice, "why didn't we just plant regular green beans?"
"Let them dry out." He said. Well, he said a little more, but that was the main point. Remember what kind of beans they are?
Now I remember why we didn't just plant regular green beans (although maybe we'll do some of both next year!). Because inside those dried up pods is another wonderful garden secret. Something that was steadily growing, all those months, under the light of the summer sun. Something delightful, hiding in there.
Just the kind of surprise little hands love to unwrap.
(For you gardeners out there, these are black coco dry beans, scarlet runner beans, and a multicolored pole bean mix, all from FedCo Seeds.)