If I were ever to win an award for gardening it would be for the rogue squash I let ramble in the garden. The seedlings come up randomly from my compost and I can't bear to pull all the varieties of form. So I let a handful of them flourish. I enjoy their tendrils and exuberant growth. I love the fragile sculptural blossoms. Then at a certain point in July I get fed up with how much space they occupy. I pick them and balance them like trophies in pots in our basement gallery where a few of the hardiest ones survive until December when they serve as reminders of the ingenious varieties of summer growth.
"There are a hundred thousand species of love, separately invented, each more ingenious than the last, and every one of them keeps making things."
― Richard Powers, The Overstory
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