Poetically speaking, I have a great appreciation for Greek mythology and its versatility for fictitious applications.

That being said, I hold no actual belief in it or the false gods it portrays. So allow me to make some poetic allusions that are in fact a gift of the real God.

We planted a big personal garden this year. It didn’t have everything in it that we might have wanted, but it did have, among other things, a lot of squash. Why? Because you can put a squash on a shelf and keep it most of the winter. Can you do that with a cucumber? No. While I love me some pickles, sometimes you just need to invest your energy in the things that don’t require anything extra. 

Complicating this way of thinking, however, are zucchini and summer squash. Yeah, they last a bit on the counter, but not as long as storage squash. And yet… I can cut them up and freeze them for a variety of things in the winter. 

The last couple of weeks have become particularly stormy, with lightning crashing, thunder rolling and the crops in the field bending under the gusting winds. It was during a stint of such weather, lasting for a few days, that we didn’t have time to get out and check on our currently fruiting vegetables. The zucchini and summer squash had only just started producing the week before and were still only giving small but tender sizes. Three or four days filled with electricity cracking open the sky, then finally we received a break in the evening to go out and check under the waterlogged vines and leaves. 

To our surprise, there were more than a few piled up under the lower canopy. Did we expect some growth? Sure, but not a hundred pounds’ worth! On more than one plant there were multiple zucchini weighing over 10 pounds apiece. My youngest held one triumphantly that dwarfed his chunky arms. The other attempted to carry one of the biggest ones back to the car but was forced to drag it backwards, grunting with the effort he wanted us to know he was expending.

They say corn grows better under thunder; my guess is that zucchini does too. While they are already infamous for growing prolifically, I like to imagine the bolts of Zeus crashing down in my garden, electrifying the soil and giving herculean strength to the roots as they burst forth with Olympian prowess. 

That’s the poet in me, however. The God-fearing side of me simply gives a prayer of thanks to the God who gives life, not only to me and the animals, but to every growing thing. I’m just happy that this time the stuff I planted has a little bit more of that juice than the weeds around my garden. 

The way out here we often pray for the rain to make our gardens grow, but sometimes what God gives us is a little thunder to make the blessings really flow. If you see me in the field one of these years with a car battery and some jumper cables attached to a garden stake, you’ll know the weather’s been fair and the crops probably needed a boost. But, knowing my history with electric fences, that’s probably a bad idea too. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I don’t have a pacemaker.