Oh. I miss gardening so much.
I miss the changes and the smell of the
dirt
And the dirt under my nails and staining my palms
From where I
supported myself to
Reach, reach and pluck that tomato or that bug
And
the way the soil improves year after year
And fresh herbs and the heat
and steam and
Smell! from the compost pile when I turn it
And picking
corn shucking it on the way into the house
And dropping it into the
waiting pot of boiling water
To taste the ultimate taste that no one
Who
doesn't do the same
Will ever experience
It's an exclusive club.
I miss the battle sans pesticide with
bugs.
I miss the menu being a jazz improvisation on
ripeness.
I miss the feeling of cleverness
As I experience the joy
Of
being in my garden
Of food and herbs and flowers
As if I invented life.
I wouldn't fight depression so much
If I still gardened.
Gardening is healing and joy
And blessing.
Inspired by a photograph of +Jessika O'Sullivan's produce.
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