Like magic, overcoming the influence of the black walnut and its evil dripline, the middle eggplant prevailed, bearing this baby, so perfect and purple. I first noticed it on Friday morning.
On Friday night, Maggie and Heal were among our guests, and they cooed over the infant veggie. Yes, cooed. To be fair, I’d done the same thing when I first saw it. My mouth, too, suddenly formed itself into an “o,” as if I’d seen the silhouette of Eleanor Roosevelt spontaneously appear in the dirt.
“It looks like some kind of alien,” Steve said. But I know, deep down, he thought it was as cute as I did.
By Sunday, however, tragedy had struck. With no witnesses to the carnage, the baby eggplant was evilly snatched away from its mother plant. All that was left was this stem, impotent and empty.
There’s some animal out there. Clearly. This baby eggplant was probably 18 to 24 inches off the ground, too, so it’s probably not a bird. It’s probably something that can sit up on its hind legs.