I sowed a seed in doubtthat it could ever bloom---can a California poppy weatheran Arkansas high noon? I tended it with the resteach morning during spring,telling my hands in faith to worktoward a beauty I could not see. Midsummer came in jewels,the myrtles finely dressed,just as they were a summer beforewhen we laid our baby … Continue reading Where the Poppy Blooms
This piece was written for the July issue of the Lee Creek Baptist Church newsletter, Grace & Peace. With each year that I spend in the garden, I am more willing to prune fat, full, leafy plants. It’s one thing to pinch off dead and yellowed leaves when the seedlings are young in spring. It’s … Continue reading Freedom That Bears Fruit
One of my favorite places to visit growing up was Platt’s Nursery just up the highway from our neighborhood, where its greenhouses were perched on one of the highest points in town. Mom would take us there each spring to pick out impatiens, petunias, and hanging baskets. When the family-owned business shut down a few … Continue reading America the Beautiful
Our wedding came just two days after spring began, when the trees were still a tangle of bones against the butter-gold forsythia down by Papa's pond. So Jared and I came into the gardening season as stragglers. By the time we returned from our honeymoon, the daffodils were already blooming along our fence, and the … Continue reading The First Year
This piece was written for the February issue of our church newsletter, Grace & Peace. Each year, I get a little better at remembering to plant bulbs. I wait until the garden has fallen asleep and the late chrysanthemums have stopped blooming, those first few frosts biting at their heads and turning them gray. One … Continue reading Bear Fruit With Patience
We saved pickling for the hottest afternoons in July, letting the big round thermometer beneath Papa Jay’s sunroom swing well over 90, the humidity souping up like the moss on his pond. It was a big job, with loads of cucumbers to harvest between our garden and Papa’s. Over a few weeks, Mom would save … Continue reading Pickling Day
A month or so before we started dating, Jared offered to send me seeds in the mail. This surprised me, because I didn’t know many guys who planted gardens. I knew fewer who had an abundance of heirloom seeds on hand. When I thought about it, Jared was the only guy I’d ever talked to … Continue reading Seeds in the Mail
A few days ago, I dug my sourdough starter out from the back of the basement fridge, lifted off the tea towel, and found it was black and hard as stone. I said, Of course. This would be the year my starter died. My biologist friend had told me just last week that it’s quite … Continue reading The Year My Sourdough Starter (Nearly) Died
A True Story from Home April is young, and I’m in my garden as often as I can be. Today, I have company. My nephew, Bennett, is kneeling in the zucchini patch beside a Red Ryder wheelbarrow. He asked if he could help, so he’s weeding the clover that crept up in early March, tossing … Continue reading A Garden in Babylon
Before the sun slipped down on the Sabbath, Mary might have pressed aloe leaves and squeezed their gum into a dish, mixing it with myrrh and water. Carrying it to a buried Jesus at dawn must have felt like a last, little fragrant offering. But when she saw the sunrise streaming into an open tomb, … Continue reading Leaves of Healing
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