Bread And Tomatoes

When my tomatoes didn't grow in 2020 I understood. I had theories, I had made mistakes, there was a lot else going on in my city and the world that deserved more of my attention. (I mean, as always, obviously, but moreso.)  Some of my first, and only, fully ripe tomatoes of 2021 In 2021 I re-upped my committment to building my soil, did my usual bed rotation, took more care with my little tomato seedlings at transplant, and watched them grow strong and healthy, as they had for the 15 or so years of gardening previous to 2020, and set copious fruit. And there they hung, green and swollen, a few ripening here and there, one Black beauty with it's blue-black shoulders and rose red blushing belly, the first smattering of Sungolds, glowing like the nightly orb of the sun dipping below a wild-fire horizon,  a few handfuls of basic, reliable red pear cherries, firm and crimson, a couple Opalka romas, one Black Krim. But when we left for a week in the Boundary Waters in mid-August, my