I can see your evidence. The soil is mounded there where once was even. The rounded curve of the flesh engorged and overripe through overrun neglect. Even after harvest there’s no return. The edges of the bed bow wider now from the deluge and the churning. The base of the boards have weakened through the damp days and hot nights. Even now, four seasons round, the body morphs and your affects are visible naked to others’ eyes.
Never again the same as the barren ‘scape before. With each season a new introduction. With each turn another getting-to-know-you period. You know yourself through brutely forced consciousness but are as of yet unaware.
I hold awareness for us both. I tend. I feed. I sow. I dig deep and I find more than I knew I could in the depths of discovery. Time and again the necessity is met from stores unknown until a hopefully never known future where they run dry.
plumdirt 
That was deep. Well written!
Thank you. Sometimes the words won’t take “later” for an answer.
This is so good.
Awww. Thank you so much.
Hi PlumDirt. I’m not sure how you feel about blog awards, but I’ve nominated you for the One Lovely Blog Award. Details can be found at http://wp.me/p1w6cN-20I. Be well!
Awww, thank you so much! I’m touched.
Would you happen to have a question to help with one of the five facts? I’m a little stumped 🙂
I’m honored. What is your favorite childhood gardening memory?
Very well written.
Thank you for saying so.
Beautiful. Did you see the recent FP’d piece ‘Get Dirty?’ (http://wp.me/p3EzSK-8Y) I think you’ll like it. Happy Gardening this summer, A. I hope your little one is learning to get her hands dirty!
I didn’t but that reads familiar for sure. She has been getting her hands dirty seemingly since she was born. Thankfully now she’s slowing down on also getting her mouth dirty every chance she gets. I do think she likes water and rocks more than dirt, but we’ll see how she grows.