We’ve reached the end of another fun season of gardening. A few weeks ago, we plucked the beans and peppers. Their yield was ridiculously low, with almost no green beans and only two tiny bell peppers. The previous year, those two vegetables flourished. I thought maybe the different deck placement this year caused the plants to suffer, as they had fewer hours of sunlight every day.
Our pumpkins and zucchini flowered feebly but never produced any fruit. Any other plants that did grow produced miniscule produce at best.
Last week, I had Zach toss all the plants except the tomatoes and herbs. He emptied the planters, and came back with information.
“I think I know why nothing grew this year.”
I straightened up from wiping the kitchen table. I was all ears, “Really, why?”
“Did you know there were rocks in the planters?”
“Well, yes. Luke wanted to put in rocks for drainage this year. I told him that it wasn’t necessary but he insisted that I buy a bag of rocks.” I nodded and shrugged. This was not news to me.
“Most of the planters had nothing but rocks in them, and maybe an inch of soil. The pumpkin plants had almost no soil at all.”
This was news to me. I did set them up with rocks and soil, and then left the boys largely unsupervised. It definitely could’ve happened. And it made sense. “Oh. We’ll have to let them know. Huh. No rocks next year.”
I chuckled and went back to cleaning in the kitchen. At least the mystery of the tiny garden had been solved.