A bit sore and a little stiff, the work is done. The garden is in–late, of course, but in, and that’s what matters. I’m always on deadline, why would it be any different with the garden? Rain is predicted for midnight tonight, and I was determined this morning to have my plants in the ground in time to receive it. I finished before dark – a record.
The extended “cool weather” season is a blessing, so they tell me at the nursery. Plant the tomatoes deep, they tell me, and maybe with the cooler temperatures they will be okay. They told me that last year, too, but of course we didn’t have the benefit of cooler weather last year and my tomatoes did fine, producing abundantly. Personally, I think it is the lake view that spurs them to thrive – heaven knows it’s not me.
(As you can see, I am so hopelessly addicted to collard greens, swiss chard, and kale. I couldn’t bring myself to take the winter plants out yet, as they are still producing so beautifully. I will milk them for every little, green leaf they will give me.)
I love digging in the dirt, turning the soil, placing the plants in their new, earthy home; the sun on my back, wind in my hair, dirt under the nails and mud between my toes. I love the connection to all things natural, and being grounded both literally and figuratively. Great personal satisfaction and a deep sense of accomplishment are earned with every aching muscle. Today, I did honest work–that, I know, feel and love.
And now, to reap the benefits of my labor. Can’t wait.