The Great Beet Harvest of ‘21
My hands wrap around thick red stems and dark green leaves, a gentle clench follows a purposeful tug to unroot fist size rubies-in-the-rough. Clench, Tug, stuff in the crook of my other arm, and repeat until the weight of my precious clutch threatens to capsize me into the sea of opportunistic high desert weeds thriving in the garden space. I bearhug my bounty, wading through theses weeds to the clipped yard, adding to the growing mound of winter edibles.
Little hands grabbing ‘baby’ beets, follows the harvest rhythm. One beet uprooted, a cackle of delight, then stomp, stomp, jump through the toddler high weeds, out of the beet bed, through the weed forest and to the giant pile of dirty rubies with their yummy tops. Just like momma.
We know the littlest shoots are the tastiest and we munch on them as we sit next to our heaping pile. Grab a dirt encrusted ruby, wrench the green protrusions with a deft twist and toss the greens and stash the jewel. On and on we go, inspecting our hoard. “Does this one look like a keeper?” No worm holes. Firm as a rock. We turn it over, admiring the varying shades as we shake off the dirt from its smooth underbody. “Ye-Eh!” we loudly proclaim in succession.
Over and over, this becomes our mantra until we have a heaped pile destined to make our liver happy, our bile flowing, the whole winter through! Our hands drip crimson with the sacrificial juices but we pay homage with our thankful hearts and duty to preserve.
“What a miracle,” I remark to myself “for these beauties to grow so big with so little input from me.” Rattlesnakes keeping us wary of the weed-choked abyss, left abandoned by the risk… but those weeds had disguised these sweet treats from marauding thieves. What a reward of our hard work to get those little beet seeds tucked away into well-made and irrigated beds.
It takes us multiple trips to bring our nutrient-dense bounty to the front porch of the house. Heaping buckets, safe from frost until they can be tucked away into sand-filled tubs; treasure ready for the digging all the cold months through.
But not safe from those marauding four-legged thieves…
“They are gone!” I’m shocked to peep out the window and see our heaped treasure depleted. “No, it couldn’t be… but what else?” Deer. What else could gobble up so many pounds of beets in a night? Not a single pellet of deer poop to be found. Hmmm, we ponder. Rats! How in the world could rats pack off beets larger than themselves? Bunnies! No bunny poop or bunny sightings. Maybe a beast of each variety? “The audacity!” I’m seething at myself, wishing I could direct my fury at the culprit who stole rather than myself for neglect.
The Great Beet Harvest of ‘21 falls to the garden predators of Big Rock, lining their ribs for a long winter.
I grew one thing, ONE thing in a wonderful bounty, enough to stow away, and it was robbed, left only with beets so large they could break world records, and not for remarkable taste.
That’s the trouble with harbouring such precious treasures; everyone wants to share in the riches. Next year we know not to dawdle and keep our garden goodies inside and up away from the vagrants roaming Big Rock.
