Magical Beans

I learned early in life that a beanstalk might grow up into the sky, into the land of giants. I never did understand why giants would live up in the sky, their being so big and heavy and all. Of course, I’m talking about Jack and his magical beans. As it turns out, his exploit was the only one I recall having turned out that way, although our experience seemed to be headed in that direction for a while.

Last summer we tried growing pole beans. I don’t have any previous experience growing them, so I was anxious to see how they would turn out. The woman who provided us the beans to start with was at a local nursery. She had run out of pole beans to sell but gave me a few from her own store, warning me that they would grow to a considerable height. Sound ominous yet?

We happily planted the beans and I built a framework to provide a trellis for the vines to grow on. It was around eight feet in height, so I figured that would be plenty tall enough. Amazingly, the beanstalks grew even beyond the top of the framework. The beans they produced were delicious, and we both agreed to give them another try this year.

Again, there were no beans available at the stores and nurseries in the area, but a neighbor gave us a few beans she had on hand. Do you see a possible pattern here? We planted the beans and waited in anticipation. They certainly grew well in terms of climbing the trellising I had built. However, it seemed to take a long time for them to produce any blossoms, let alone beans. Lesley gave up on them, but I held onto my belief they would do something eventually. And, eventually they did.

I thought the beans delicious, although Lesley said they tasted strange.  Undeterred, I  ate them along with fresh kale we had grown as well. As before, the stalks grew beyond the top of the trellis and proved quite fruitful. I finally let them mature to the point where the beans inside the pods could develop then dry on the vine. I shelled the dried pods and was impressed to find the yield nearly three pounds of beans from the few stalks we had planted. 

I was intrigued by the way the beans adsorbed the pod inside which they were attached from their vegetable umbilical cords, or umbilical threads, and grew into miniature  nutrient storehouses. It was like discovering the magic of food production all over again. I had tended our vegetable garden when I was a kid and delighted in the tastes of carrots and radishes and tomatoes picked and eaten on the spot. For most of my adult life however I have looked to grocery isles in the local supermarket as the source of fresh produce. It has been a treat to rediscover growing some of our own.

From what I read in the news, a lot of people are returning to locally grown produce and planting gardens all over the country. I hope others enjoy the sense of magic through this experience as I did. Of course, I had to ask myself whether my protagonist, Bobby Navarro, would have any gardening experience in his life. For the most part, I think the enjoyment and magic of a vegetable garden would not be practical for Bobby. He spends too much of his time on the road. But, that’s important too. Sometimes our characters are defined by things they don’t have, or do, as well as the things they do. When I was pitching my first book to an editor at a conference, I said, “Looking for a home is what keeps him on the road”. She made me stop and write that down. She said it  was a compelling description of Bobby’s character, defining him by something missing in his life. 

I wouldn’t say not having a garden makes one’s life incomplete, but having one can help enrich it. How about you? Is gardening a part of what makes your life good? Remember, there might be some magic in those beans.