Arriving home, we immediately check on the blackberries. Deep black berries burst on the vine; we gobble them up and leave the red ones to ripen. We’re home!
Our minivan’s contents now spill across the living room, and everyone feels out-of-sorts (especially the mother). I leave everything and run barefoot to the vegetable garden.
|Neck Deep in Tomatoes|
With the exhaustion and disorder of arriving home after a summer of travel, I find myself returning to the garden. It’s overgrown with weeds, and nothing stayed quite in place. But I’m out here, neck deep in green tomatoes.
Something about growing things, something about the smell of the earth, the berries, and the vegetables reassures me. We’ll settle in, find order and rhythm, and harvest the fruit of a long, hot summer.
Journal: What’s so good about coming home?