Planting seeds

A big rain last night washed away the blanket of yellow pine pollen, and then a sunny, breezy beautiful day bursting with color — the green leaves already a curtain across the woods that surround us, and the red azalea and white dogwood and bridal wreath and purple lilac attracting bees and wasps and butterflies — drew me outside. I fed the hens, turned the compost, pruned the grape vine, and prepared another bed with some of last year’s compost and packets of seeds: cosmos and sunflowers and daisies and poppies and roselle and Rocky Mountain bee plant.

I came inside for water and a snack. Malia was at the dining table, where she does most of her high school homework, and she was listening to a presentation about the Wilmington, North Carolina massacre and other injustices done to Black Americans.

I stepped out the front door to chat with Erin, who was weeding the front flower beds with Oliver, our fifth grader. He was saying to Erin, “I’m glad they created podcasts, because Malia and the rest of us can learn about racism and other important topics.” I immediately thought of Dave Winer, and wished he could have been there in that moment to hear how all the digging he’s done, and development he’s outlined, and MLK pins he’s worn have helped to make this world colorful and vibrant and on the way to justice.



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