Friday, May 6, 2011

Between Storms

This is where the garden’s going in. Heavy clay. Turned over three times by hand at a shovel’s depth between storms, fat worms, clods to break your neck. Raked deep today to robin and sparrow song, and geese overhead. Plants waiting on the back step. On the back of my hand, another drop of rain.

Up Slope

[click to enlarge]

Down Slope

[click to enlarge]

Earlier today: Why a book?


Jan said...

Oh, William! Photos to go with your beautiful wonderful!!! Those flowers are gorgeous!

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jan. In fact, those are the neighbor’s azaleas, all dressed up and nowhere to go. A photo of them was the least I could do.

rahina q.h. said...

what a wonderful way to spend the day William... no vegetables? that soil looks like it would benefit from potaotes to break it up and provide more baby potatoes:)

William Michaelian said...

On the contrary, Rahina, all vegetables. Tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, squash. Spuds we bring home by the bag; we eat so many we could never grow enough. Flowers grow elsewhere around the house. Maybe one of these days I’ll expand the view.

~im just only me~ said...

I think, William, I could have posted a picture almost identical to that of my Grandmother's newly filled grave. No vacancies though in that soil. As I stood there today I contemplated the things I have just read written here. The rain fell there as well, into my empty hands, but the sun broke through just as I felt overwhelmed. Sometimes the world speaks to us, I suppose. Thanks for this post :)

word verification: beards.
of course! lol

William Michaelian said...

Indeed, life is a hairy subject. The world is always speaking, I’m sure of it. The beauty of loss and sorrow is that it helps us listen. As does a stubborn patch of ground, as I know you know. Thanks, Cassie. I’m touched, and I love the connection.