Dropping her finger from her lips she turns the pages of her anxiously awaited Burpee’s seed catalogue. A bird’s song breaks the silence as she promises God this will be her last planting.
A small area is owned and it will be a work of art, with size not much of a concern, only the soil quality, and the plot must be well drained.
There’s an earthy smell with her principle vegetables Scarlet Runner, Kentucky Wonder, Blue Lake and Black Simpson all tumbled over rich dirt mounds.
A riot of shapes and colors are created mixing cabbage with broccoli of green, purple and white according to hue while she is awed by the beauty.
She visualizes the sunlight colors… feeling the damp earth. With calloused hands, she pulls grass and weeds and picks rocks only the small ones so as not to interrupt the orderly course. The garden fence is stretched to unreasonable length.
Neatness counts…so it must be military straight. The gate is closed and not a soul ventures into her domain. As growth does it’s duty, she stands back marveling at it all as she gathers and prepares…giving generously to those who’ve never had a green thumb.