It’s been an unexpected whirlwind week. Yesterday afternoon, I sat in my wing chair, reading and highlighting, while beet pickles processed in the canner. Content, I looked over at my open kitchen with its tidy counters and big blue Ball canner boiling on the stove. We picked the last of the beets the day prior
I know, it’s still summer. But I feel the whisper of changing seasons in the air and I don’t know that I’ve ever been as ready for autumn as I am this year. Half the garden is already lying fallow. I chose not to plant a fall crop of anything and I’ve started pruning the tomato
A mountain of green beans in the kitchen sink invite me to a time of rumination as I fall into a pattern of washing and snapping them into bite-sized pieces. Swish, see, snap, snap, set aside, next. It’s a good time to pray. Tending to vegetables grown from tiny seeds, in awe of the master gardener who
I’m slipping back into retreat this morning as my mind shifts back to writer mode. But the green beans I spied in the garden yesterday, when I watered for the first time after a soggy week, nag me. I’m pretty good at filtering out distractions in favour of writing time. But those beans. Dang.
Summer’s back. I printed out the fourth draft of Presences of Absences, bought new colourful highlighters, flags, and post-it notes, and am heading into a different season of writing and editing away from the computer. Perfect timing. Because it’s time to sit on the deck and watch the finches, and on the grass in front of
Overnight, the growth seems exponential. I stand with the the long-handled nozzle on my hose putting water near the base of turnips and beans and kohlrabi and other plants that are, today, more than they were yesterday. Sometimes, change happens when we don’t expect it. We’re surprised when we find ourselves somewhere we haven’t been
I’m at the park, kneeling at my tripod and looking through the viewfinder at some flowers I don’t know the name of. What someone somewhere called them in the past doesn’t matter. They’re growing here today and I’m appreciating their unique beauty and attempting to capture a reasonable digital representation. Sometimes I catch glimmers of