Oh, this garden. I cannot believe it is June! There are so many things still unplanted, so many trays of seedlings. So much to do, and it is so late. But even with the clock ticking there are moments when I forget the calendar and stare in awe at something just because it is blooming (that bloomed in late April last year). It is always amazing how perfect it all is. I work my butt off to make a sloppy looking pie or struggle with a drawing for hours (days) and the seeds just ... grow ... and bloom in vivid array and make food which nourishes and sustains us. Perfect.
So, I'm behind. Wisconsin is behind. The north is behind. Nature knew what to do though, and waited. So we are behind together. And I think we are ready.
So I hoe and water and plant and dig and crawl on the ground and kneel in the dirt and walk barefooted in the wet morning grass and talk to the chipmunk and whisper to tiny seedlings and sing as I walk past nervous mama birds sitting on blue eggs in perfect nests and feel the sun on my back.
We have just begun...
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