For a while now, since last summer, I have been wanting to set up a little project, and as this spring turns into summer, I've finally launched it.

Over the weekend, I started a little summer garden.

Inside wooden frames, on a bed created out of three different layers of soil -- one natural, other fertile and the third, soft and fine -- now lie the seeds of three types of lettuce; some kohlrabi (what a crazy and intriguing plant -- there's a fun little article on it over at The New York Times); radishes (accidentally some giant-sized ones); flowers such as poppies; beans; and to try it out, though the instruction is to plant them separately beforehand, then move on to your garden, a few seeds of pumpkin and squash, too.

The last time I had a garden of my own for growing the likes of vegetables was when I was a child. Over at my parents' farm, with help from my grandparents and parents, I remember, grew some squash, and rows of sunflowers. In truth, I would say it was really my grandparents planting and tending the growth, only, the little piece of garden was 'appointed' to me and my brother. All the same, I experienced the magic of things that grow -- the magic of life. How exciting it was -- seeing how big the pumpkins would get; taking part in the adults' world.

Some twenty years later, the magic is still a motivation. Only now, the patch is organic, and tending to it makes me think of the caring powers we all have within us: the power to nurture life, to touch things that grow, to make them blossom.