The remnants of last year’s little garden.  Curly kale gone to seed but supplied one last meal.  There was some spinach and chicory and a few brussel sprouts left to add to the meal.  A fall garden’s last gift to the spring.

I have a raised bed with several different containers that produces food for a little bistro housed within a small winery.  The larger containers are 80 gallon fermenters that at one time held wine that I made.  Now they hold tomatoes, and cantaloupes, cucumbers, winter squash, and this year some cucamelon vines.  The Salvia has returned and the undying, unrelenting mint continues to attempt to claim all.  It is remarkable the amount of food that can be grown for pennies in such a small space.

A thousand times the spade split the ground.  Lifting and turning unearthing the earth.  I began with soil that had too much clay.  Each year I amend it with last year’s straw.  And last year’s dung from an elephant at the zoo.

I was happy to see many of these little guys.  Hidden deep under the earth they transform last year’s straw and last year’s crap into rich food that will produce fruit and seed that will sustain me.  The soul of the earth and my own soul seem to work in similar ways.

The earth is ready.  Like a blank canvas it awaits my choices, ready to receive the seed, eager to hold, nourish and support the new life which will spring forth out of her.  For a few hours labor, blistered hands, burned skin, and aching muscles, I will receive back beauty and nourishment for my body and my soul.  The planter is one I made from a re-purposed pallet last fall.  I was going to plant strawberries but chose basil to use in a fresh pesto.

My first babies of this year.  They were happy in their new home.

Be Groovy!