I was weeding this attempt at a cottage garden in September, untangling tendrils of a climber rose to wrap around an archway, when I brushed against something that gave off an instantly familiar scent: spicy, herbal, green. I looked around, and realized that a tomato plant had sprouted in a patch of sun between two bushes.

I certainly hadn’t placed it there. Most of my garden is shaded intermittently by oak trees, and the light is too dappled to give vegetables what they need. My neighbor had tomatoes, though, and the phone line ran right overhead; probably a greedy crow or squirrel had stolen a fruit, sat just above to eat it, and dropped some seeds. The plant was only a