humbling hail

i say humbling. there are so many emotions as a gardener when you watch helplessly as hail rips through your garden. our earth mother is powerful.

one gorgeous august morning, i took pictures of my garden. everything blossomed and lush, the prettiest it has ever been.

that same august evening, i took pictures of my garden. everything broken. a lesson, perhaps. we gathered in silence and gasps and tears at the community garden. it was a funeral for our ego. a funeral for our eggplant, too.

garden corner

little raised fists

“seeds unfurl themselves and rise through the soil like tiny green fists,” Moyles writes in Women Who Dig. “These little raised fists, in fields and gardens across the planet, are for her, emblems of solidarity for women fighting for fairness, and for recognition of what so many women have been doing all along: the crucial work of being farmers.”