I see something I’ve never seen before. I’d assumed that I had looked at these tomatoes so much I’d never find anything new. I have seen the shimmer of the fine hairs growing on the stems and on new fruit, but never like this. Maybe it’s the time of day, the perfect position of the sun, but the whole plant, the stems, leaves, fruit, all of is sparkling yellow. As though each plant is studded with millions of citrine gemstones the size of sand grains, they shine, more yellow than green. The effect is dazzling. Jeweled tomato plants, a feature for the Louvre, hunkered down in my garden. And I’m awed in a new way at nature. The hairs serve a purpose, but there is no reason for them to be beautiful. They just happen to be fine and light catching. A splurge, nature spoiling herself with a little glitz. Fantastic.