Garlic is magic.  Plant it two inches deep, then cover it with compost and straw; do this in autumn, just before the ground freezes, and it will set roots and then go dormant for the winter.  Like bears, it needs this cold dark period.  Perhaps it is dreaming as the moist soil holds it in darkness as it sleeps until spring.  Perhaps it is meditating, breathing with the frost heaves and tunneling mice.

Was it Einstein who said, “There are two ways to live: one is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

As we plant garlic on a cold fall day, leaves drop from trees to reveal naked branches before the winter; our own movement warms us more than the sun as chilling winds blow across the field; we push the cloves into soil, setting this cycle of rooting and hibernation into effect once more; this little bulb will sprout come spring, and I am sure once more that everything is a miracle.