In addition to farming, fishing is another one of Mr. Mulch's passions. Fly fishing, specifically. In the depths of winter, when the garden hibernates under snow and ice, Mr. Mulch painstakingly ties his own flies in anticipation of the trout season that starts in April. As an ecologically minded fisherman, he only frequents catch-and-release waters, and is particularly fond of the Delaware River. Because I am an equally passionate non-fisherperson, I rarely witness his prowess with rod and reel, but do get to see the often beautiful specimens he catches, thanks to the traditional fish-in-hand photos he does bring home. For example, here's a beauty -- a 17" rainbow trout.
I also hear tales of "The one that got away;" one with too much fight in it to be reeled in, or too much cunning to take the hook. Though in fairness to Mr. Mulch, the high ratio of photos to tales of lost fish is testimony to his skill as a fisherman.
Back in the garden, we also use the phrase "The one that got away" to describe what happens when a vegetable cleverly evades harvest, cunningly disguising itself under the leaves of its host plant or lying in camouflage along the green timbers of the raised beds. Zucchini are particularly adept at this subterfuge, and the plants themselves, with their exuberant canopy of leaves are willing accomplices. Every so often, one gets away from our watchful eyes until it's so big that discovery is inevitable. And at that point we sheepishly pull it from its hiding place and take its photo -- this time not of the perfect specimen, but of the "one that got away" from us:
17", somewhat speckled zucchini tugboat.
To get a better idea of scale, here it is with a ruler, and then with Mrph -- who is just about the same size!
We also practice "catch-and-release" when zucchini -- and sometimes cucumbers -- reach tugboat size. They're well past edible at this point, but not beyond contributing back to the garden by finding their repose in the compost pile. And in true circle of life fashion, next year their ghost will no doubt nourish the new crop of clever hideaways.