This time of year has become the season opener for climate disasters, but because we are a hopeful species, it is also garden planting season. As I work my ungloved hands into the soil, thoughts of past gardens and homes and loved ones who shared them with me push to the surface. The familiar texture and heady scent of the moist earth prompts my memories allowing past and present to mingle as the tiny seeds promise the future. My earth-caked fingers dance among the teeming life in the rich dirt joining nature, once again, in the greatest recycling event of all! I dig more deeply into soil and memories and I’m a child again. Home a story about chilhood and growing up
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