Years ago, when we lived in our house that was built in 1912, I saw an idea for a small, compact garden, described in a women’s magazine. A ring garden. The plans said to dig up a nine-foot circle. Then, with metal stakes and wire mesh, we made a three-foot diameter compost area in the center. The plans gave specific instructions for what to plant and where, in the ring garden, with the plants that needed staking at the edge of the compost (like beans and tomatoes). Plants that needed the most moisture and nutrients were planted closer to the center. Plants needing less, were planted closer to the edges. The suggestion was to pour a bucket of water into the center, compost area, once or twice a week, if it didn’t rain. We followed the instructions to the letter. This, however, was a garden plan for some other part of the country–someplace where it rained more and the summer wasn’t scorching hot. We got some beets, I think, but not much else. We kept putting peelings into the compost, along with the errant squash or tomato that got left behind on a garden plant. Then, in the spring, as suggested by the magazine article, we pulled compost from the center and dug it into the garden to begin anew.
And, we did begin anew, but with seeds and plants that we knew we liked–summer squash and zucchini, tomatoes, and cucumbers.
Early one spring, I saw a little vine pushing from the edges of the compost bin. Obviously a squash, it was growing, I imagined, from something spoiled or bug-eaten that had been tossed into the compost the previous summer. Deep in the warmth, with rotting leaves and vegetable peelings, the seed germinated, and the sprouting plant pushed out into the sunlight. I watched as it grew, more vigorous than the squash vines I had started in the garden. It thrived, flowered, and began to set fruit. Hmmm. The two little round, green fruit on our vine were certainly not summer squash or zucchini, the only kinds of squash we plant and eat. I wondered what they were, thinking hard to recall some other kind of squash we might have had.
The squash grew bigger and greener and rounder, and I grew more and more perplexed. Not knowing what they were, I didn’t know when pull them from the vine. Then they began to turn orange.
One year, we planted cantaloupe. I think this was the total harvest. But, that is the ring garden, behind the boys.
Oh. Of course. Pumpkins. From last Thanksgiving.
When they were completely ripe, I picked and cooked and froze them. The next Thanksgiving, we enjoyed pumpkin bread and pumpkin pie from our surprise pumpkins.
A tree is identified by the kind of fruit it produces. Figs never grow on thorns, or grapes on bramble bushes.
Luke 6:44 (The Living Bible)
Squash, however, come in many varieties, most of whom grow on vines that look deceptively alike. Sometimes, you just have to wait and see what shows up.
One year, we had several volunteer tomato plants, scattered around in the ring garden. And, another year, the little garden was rife with, oh, yes, pumpkin plants. They are pretty aggressive, those pumpkins.