Because the chicken coop is underneath my raised beds, it is easy to forget to look for vegetables. The chicks are perky and sometimes noisy, and their antics draw my attention in a way that tiny peppers do not. 

But with or without my encouragement, the seedlings I planted last April are in fact performing as gardens have since eating was first invented. The lettuce has been generous with its leafy splendor. 

"Eat me!" it teases. 

The beans are as slender as ribbons, and are literally low hanging fruit. The small emerald tubes with the showy golden flowers are trying their best to become zucchinis. I suppose they already are, just too small to be more than hors d'oeuvres. The carrots are orange, although they are more crooked than the ones that come in a cellophane bag. 

But today I picked my first tomato. Tomatoes have been for sale at the store all year, and have brought both color and taste to my salads. I paid for them, washed them, ate them. But this tomato is in an entirely different league. 

She appeared like magic, not on a truck. I doubted her existence, yet here she is. Her color evolved from brown dirt and clear water, and no Houdini can do that. In his magic show this week John will invite the children to grab the pigments off their clothes and toss them to the black and white illustrations in his coloring book. Then with a wave of his magic pencil the pictures will burst with hues. I know the trick. Though I won't tell you how he does it. 

But I don't know the trick of tomatoes turning red. Or peppers becoming yellow, though the instructions say it is scheduled for July.

Last week I experienced an evolution from jealousy to compassion. There was someone whose life looked more beautiful than mine, and I had less than nourishing thoughts about it. Then in what I can only describe as a series of miracles, I was privy to the part that is less than lovely, and my heart swelled like a zucchini in time lapse photography. If you had asked last week if such bright feelings could emerge out of my crooked self interest I would have waved my hands in disbelief.

I have mustered benevolence before, but this was in an entirely different league.