70 degrees, sunny, a light breeze. Perfect conditions to walk barefoot through the garden. Two gardens, to be exact. Two plots in our lower yard were tilled last week. Which means, for the past week, my husband has been harping on his mother and me to get something in the ground.
Today was that day. It couldn’t have been nicer outside. It was a family effort, which made the planting even sweeter. Grandma, the grandkids and I stuck so many fun seeds in the dirt. Rows were crooked. Mounds for vining fruits and veggies were uneven. Names of plants were written sideways on the plant stakes after seeds were sown, making for some very interesting handwriting.
My husband is going to look at the garden in a few days, and wonder what we were thinking. You know what? We weren’t really thinking. We stuck our fingers and toes in the earth and put things where they felt best. You don’t get much more organic than that. And that, is what summertime memories are made of.
“In the garden, my soul is sunshine.”
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