There’s nothing like the glow of deep virtue that comes after the new organic gardener gives up poison sprays. You are increasing the health of your family, producing vegetables with a more delicious flavor, and making the planet a better place.
Then your tomatoes wilt, your cucumbers ditto, and large numbers of seeds you plant somehow never come up. For years I planted sunflower seeds, thinking of those golden-bronze-red beauties in August, but they didn’t seem to emerge. I learned that, in fact, they had emerged but were eaten in the night by slugs that seemed to find them more delicious than all other mealtime possibilities.
In California the snails ate my baby seedlings; in Virginia it …