survivors

In the beginning, we planted many many peas, flat after flat flying out the greenhouse door – sugar, snap, shelling, even this weird purple-pod kind Caitlin got from Italy.

Then, in the night, like so many locusts, the rabbits came. And feasted. Digested that a little, and feasted some more, nibbled on a beet green or a lettuce leaf here or there. But it was the peas that really took the hit.

We have maybe fifteen or so survivors, and they’re flowering now, white and delicate on the fence by the driveway in the rain. Peas are supposed to get lots of water when they flower, to get juicy peas! What timing! Maybe it’s meant to be? We watch them like hawks now, day by day.

The best.
peas.
ever.