I'm so excited to be able to give vegetable growing an honest try. With a lotta help from my friends (the compost was delivered, a gift). It truly matters, when we help each other. The food I grow will be shared, flowers that are blooming are feeding the bees and bugs and birds. The thread is golden real, connected. The labor is medicine, the fruits of labor are medicine, the communication is medicine. Leaning on my shovel, talking to neighbors, inhaling the rich fragrance of spring, earth, fruit trees blooming, hyacinth, heat. Hands on steaming dirt, hands in earth. Looking up at the early morning blue sky with shreds of clouds, crows calling, doves cooing, a feeling I can only describe as "Michigan" washed through me and soothed my soul. Tears, yes, joy, even more, yes. I did it, we did it, this is what it means for me to be home
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