The author takes a nap in her favorite New York City park. Photo: Francisco Collazo
When I was a kid, my parents planted a garden every year–okra, peas, beans, potatoes, broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, corn, spinach, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, and more–and I woke up at sunrise many summer mornings to go do the picking. I’d grumble and whine about it, but in retrospect, I loved knowing where our food came from and how it tasted when I ate it raw, still warm from the vine.