Imagine a plate holding two strawberries, identical in appearance. One came out of a supermarket box, meaning it was probably harvested when it was still unripe. By the time it reached the plate it may have been off the vine（藤）for two weeks. The other strawberry was picked from a garden minutes before being eaten.
Supermarket strawberries are not entirely without advantages: they are convenient and still available even in winter months. But the two berries differ from each other in the same way that hearing music in a concert hall differs from listening to it on an old CD player. The home-grown fruit is an eatable case for making a home garden.
Your columnist, who long considered gardening a complete waste of time, advances this argument with great enthusiasm. Planting cool-weather greens, as gardeners across the north-east of America are now doing, can seem nonsense, since convenient, continuously well-stocked supermarket shelves are available all week. But the same could be said of cooking: there are many cheap and decent restaurants around, so why bother to make your own meals?
That attitude misconstrues the ultimate appeal of gardening: it mistakes the product for the purpose. It is true that a garden can produce tomatoes and carrots of incomparable sweetness, and celtuce（芹莴） and herbs that taste like themselves rather than the plastic they are usually packaged in. While finding, let's say, celtuce in the shops can take some time, effort, and expense, growing your own vegetables ensures a reliable supply.
On the other hand, a garden, especially in the early years, can produce little but frustration. Green hands may plant the wrong crops for their soil. And even expert gardeners can lose a season's harvest to uncooperative weather.
No matter. The real joy of gardening is the time spent doing it. The deepest pleasure-as with cooking. Writing or almost anything worthwhile - is in the work itself. To garden is to patiently, lovingly and diligently help life become strong and healthy, in the ground and above it.