Sinking your hands-- a shovel, a rake--- into dirt feels so simple. So solid in a shifting world. The earth turns over; its dark belly gleams toward the sky. Spadeful by spadeful, you shift the contour of things. You dig the hole. You plant the tree. Your hands smooth the dirt and tuck the roots … Continue reading A Garden’s Legacy
spring
Darned. Spring. Storm.
The daffodils shiver in agreement.