The first garden in the new house is planted. Just a few days shy of six months after moving into our new dwelling I have food growing in soil in my backyard again. There’s something settling in that…having food growing in my backyard.
I continue to spend most days growing other things: my marriage, my daughter, my career, the dust accumulation on the ceiling fan…but to once again have hope of the tastiest broccoli, of crisp kale five minutes fresh in my breakfast of bacon, carrots and egg yolks…I knew I missed working the earth but only now that it’s sneaking back into my days do I allow myself to realize how much I truly yearned.
Only one bed is growing, but I’m slowly adding more. Four more are built and waiting. Sticks, grass, and ash in the bottoms. Two bags of leaves transferred from hatchback to hatchback in the dark parking lot of a diner. Tree branches fell in exchange for a neighbor’s apple pie.
I have my work cut out for me, and for that I am grateful.