My wife planted a garden of vegetables – we think – but the jungle has not only taken root, it has taken over: the space available; the adjoining lawn; the bulkhead that separates the garden from the lake; and it has begun to obscure the view.
Our son-in-law swears he can see it grow (and grow and grow) while he’s watering it.
The huge leaves of whatever it is (my wife lost the plastic identification tags) would serve – or most certainly will serve soon – as umbrellas for the pontoons we rent out on the water which is located somewhere nearby.
Jack’s overnight success with his magic beans and the resulting beanstalk – which later succumbed to the axe given the giant clambering down it to do him in – serves but a prelude to the setting for this modern-day sequel. One thing’s for sure, we shall surely live happily after – maybe ever after – eating whatever is growing when it is finally grown.
Relatedly, I ran across this Aramaean proverb: “That which will become a gourd shows itself in the bud.”
That’s probably a helpful saying to horticulturists but one of them I am not. Nor, evidently, is anyone in our family. Blooming idiots we are collectively when it comes to knowing what’s blooming out – and up – there.
And while I admit I’m rather naïve with regards judging human behavior, if this proverb suggests we can know a person’s true colors by their budding beginnings; their best-foot-forward introductions; job interviews; political campaign promises; save-the-planet, free-the-whales, and clean-the-air environmental pitches (who doesn’t want to breathe clean air?) then I say fight your way below the leaves; turn over the rocks; peer behind the jungle of nice-sounding verbiage because the foliage may be – and given human’s mercenary nature likely is – hiding real purpose and true identity.
Which time – water and sunlight – and the light-of-day will reveal.
Keep the axe close at hand.