Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Strip away the gadgets and the techniques, the books and the magazines and the soil test kits, and what you’re left with, at the end of the day, is this: a stretch of freshly turned dirt, a handful of seeds scratched into the surface, and a marker to remember where they went. It is at the same time an incredibly brave and an incredibly simple thing to do, entrusting your seeds to the earth and waiting for them to rise up out of the ground to meet you.

Amy Stewart, From the Ground Up: The Story of a First Garden

The day starts gray but sunshine bursts forth later. I’m so excited I take a photograph of the light on the floor in the den and post it on social media with a Shakespeare quote: “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks.”

Corny. But the sunshine makes me giddy.

I decide to take advantage of the break in the current not-so-nice weather pattern and head to the garden to toss some seeds in the ground. A light rain starts while I’m driving to the community garden. I turn on the wipers with a stubborn determination. I don’t care; I’m gardening,

It has stopped by the time I pull my car into the parking lot. April weather is nothing if unpredictable this year.

I don’t stay long, there’s not much to do. I take my time laying out a few rows and dropping tiny radish, lettuce and kale seeds in the ground, pausing often to stand and survey my little plot. I plan and dream and the garden feeds me with intangible gifts only I can appreciate.

# # #

Today, finishing up a twelve-week study on the book of Joshua with a group of women. So many nuggets of wisdom have been uncovered, such a deep appreciation for the faithfulness of God has emerged.

Also, continuing to battle this pesky head cold that was impudent enough to show up a couple of days ago.

And baseboards. Gerry is making good progress on installing the new baseboards. I never dreamed a piece of wood (or whatever they’re made of) could make me so happy.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. I like your reference to Romeo and Juliet. Yesterday, I wrote the draft of an homage to Shakespeare for next week’s post, celebrated as both his birth and death dates.

    How interesting that as you plant, snow is filtering down, however brief, on the warming earth with some more nitrogen for the soil:

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