Codepoke out in his flower garden. It's the first time he's ever gardened flowers, and doesn't really know why he's doing it. There are not yet any flowers in his garden. There are only sprouts.
And some of the sprouts are weeds.
Codepoke is kind of conflicted on the subject of killing. Once he killed an animal, and even though it was the right thing to do, he still feels remorse. But he would do it again. He was once kind to cockroaches, and still has to consciously overcome guilt before killing a spider in the house. Sometimes he pretends he doesn't see them so he doesn't have to end their lives.
The weeds in the garden seem somehow noble. Unbidden, they find a way to carry on. Despite all the machinations of man, they thrive. And with that tender green that only a new-sprouted herb has, they are breaking out all around the bare earth where Codepoke's planted flowers.
Adam is no longer hungry, and neither are Eve, Cain, or Abel. It's been twenty or more years they've been out in the wild world, the world beyond the garden. For the first couple years, they gathered fruit and nuts that fell out of trees. Gradually, they learned about grains, then they figured out about storage, and finally about planting enough for a year. God helped them figure this all out. They would not have made it alone. But now, their tummies are full every night and were even through the winter. It's all because of farming.
The spring is well upon them now, and Adam wants his family to be full through the next winter as well. He and Cain are standing in the field they planted last week and surveying their coming bounty. Adam takes Cain through the field, careful to step in the unplanted places, teaching Cain how the weeds must be kept under control. They are alive and sometimes beautiful, but each weed reduces the grain they have for the winter. He teaches Cain to leave the weeds closest to the seedlings, for fear of pulling the wrong sprout. And he teaches Cain to pull the big weeds right away, and all the sprouts in the wrong places, and all the weeds at the borders.
God promised him, those twenty years ago, that he would be able to feed his family. It was later he learned what those thorns and thistles and the sweat of his brow really meant.
He spake also this parable; A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: And if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down.
This really is not about a conclusion for me. It was just three mental pictures I connected with back in July when I was planting my flowers. (BTW, I planted way too late, and planted 5 areas/things. 4 of them were successes. The Xinia's were the most ridiculous. They did not show flower pods until mid-Sept, and didn't bloom until the very end of Sept - and that was just 4 flowers. Indian summer has been so merciful around here, though, that I have like 30 Xinias going strong and it's almost halloween. There should be some kind of law against that, but it's really cool.)
The main "moral" that came to mind for me was that ever since God allowed mankind their rein, He now eats by the sweat of His brow, too, just like us.