It’s been awhile, beans.

And the carrots and peas just won’t quit. The sugar snap peas haven’t made it in the house before this week. (Don’t tell the little ones or they’ll disappear before I get a taste.)

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And then, we reap.

With these from feet away and peas in the salad picked moments before, our meal is made.

The beans will be ready for a first pick tomorrow or the next day. The peas will have their last harvest the next day or tomorrow. The tides turn with their speed. The earth spins with hers. The garden moves at its own pace. I’m merely here to watch it turn.