3 posts
A handful of heavy beets dangle from their lush tops in my left hand, and I aim the hose at the muddy roots. With a flash of color, wet and shiny, I am suddenly a preschooler who has just pulled a novel crayon from the first box of 48 Crayolas on Christmas Day.
The top layer of garden soil is the homeland of the earthworm, that marvelous converter of garbage to topsoil. It seems a pity to tear it to bits with power equipment…
It's 6:30 am and Derek like a good teenager is still asleep. On a summer morning, my husband and his buddy are hitting the local mountain trails, while I make my escape up the road to the farm where Rock Wall Garden is still asleep in the shadows…