I listen to the songs of cardinals and sparrows. I talk back to them and to the plants too.
The artichoke thrives, in funny Maine weather.
Eggplants and hot peppers are blooming. There are green tomatoes. One zinnia, three sunflowers: yet to bloom.
I graze; nibbling green beans, basil, blueberries, and raspberries.
Picking lots of basil, cilantro, green beans, and chives. I pat the potato leaves, so soft. Speak to the morning glories, sing to the sedum, and curse the copper beetles.
The hummingbird is neon green against the red bee balm. Cumulus clouds pile up. The wind blows. I pull up weeds. It gets dark.
The artichoke thrives, in funny Maine weather.
Eggplants and hot peppers are blooming. There are green tomatoes. One zinnia, three sunflowers: yet to bloom.
I graze; nibbling green beans, basil, blueberries, and raspberries.
Picking lots of basil, cilantro, green beans, and chives. I pat the potato leaves, so soft. Speak to the morning glories, sing to the sedum, and curse the copper beetles.
The hummingbird is neon green against the red bee balm. Cumulus clouds pile up. The wind blows. I pull up weeds. It gets dark.
