A walk in my countryside

Posted on Thursday 6 July 2006 at 02:23

I go out into the heat and smile. Clouds are passing overhead, and the breeze is light from the south. The resident bluebirds are flitting around the yard. One third of the hives are gone - down on my Dad's alfalfa fields, gathering the best honey we know of in our area. A week or two, and we'll be notifying our customers.

I give my undersized tortoiseshell cat a quick stroke of the fur as I go down the steps. She's still a kitten, really. One of the toughest, best cats I've known. She's as independent and as affectionate as the day is long. Her one flaw might be the lunacy that strikes her at sunset, but I can't fault anything so hilarious as a cat chasing its own shadow - or chasing the dog.

I walk out to the garden with my ten-year-old. He's been weeding for me, keeping track of his time spent. He likes earning money, and he likes gardening. It's a good fit.

He takes me around and shows me his accomplishments. The three watermelon hills have been found under the pigweed; the hand tiller has been vigorously applied to the strip of soil along the garden's south edge. He had his eye on those watermelons already last night. They've been the project in the back of his mind since the family weeding time we had after supper.

We examine the plants, and I teach him about the qualities of clay soil as he comments on the earth's cracking. We count six watermelon sprouts and have a look at what'll go in tomorrow's veggie delivery. He educates me on the calls of the birds I take for granted all around us. Now I know what a white-crowned sparrow sounds like, and he knows that clay particulate is finer than sand.

I'm always excited when I realize delivery day is coming. I can't wait to get out there and share what's new for the week. It's too much fun. Maybe I've found the perfect job for me.

I have to restrain myself from picking and packaging radishes (finally!) and collecting snap peas. The weeds, instead. I'll focus on the weeds. I feel exasperation with the brand-new spinach that's bolted, and pleasure with the bolt-resistant romaine that's heading so nicely. We can make a pre-mixed salad pack this week with some of the new leaf greens.

There's dill leaf in abundance now, and the sunflowers are showing the first faint signs of flowering. three days ago, they were at my hip. Now they're at my shoulder.

The Roma tomatoes, planted for my family's extensive tomato needs, have a couple of fruits. Still green. Come on, you plants, I started you in March. I want to taste a fresh tomato, straight from the vine to the mouth. They're best eaten like apples.

And the apples... One tree's fruit is slightly bruised by the small hail we've taken, but they're all beginning to blush. They're so lovely. I hope the high humidity doesn't generate another storm like last Friday, when we witnessed a tornado just a few miles north of where we'd gone into the city.

God, please protect this garden. Every time I ask, You've answered. I know You don't break the hopes of Your children without very good reasons, and I pray You'd lead the work of my hands with Your blessing. I planted, my children watered, but You are causing the growth.

Untitled Comment

Posted by Carol on Thursday 6 July 2006 at 04:56 - Link

Heh, is it has hot there has it is here. We are cooking!!! I've been asking God to protect my garden too.
~carol

Untitled Comment

Posted by Carol on Thursday 6 July 2006 at 06:34 - Link

Thanks for visiting my site. Our a/c is konking out, the hottest day of the year. UGH!!!! I thought it would be hot at your place seeing as you aren't that far from us. Stay cool.
~carol