Digging in the Dirt

by jane arie baldwin

Unamused by it all.

Morning Zen

I went out into the garden today. Sharp spade broke ground sifted through rich compost.  Dirt damp from early showers.

Flowers blooming. Vegetables too. Broad green leaves of the crookneck shading baby leaves of thai basil.

Like a squirrel digging for nuts buried in fall I dig my hands deep down into living, breathing soil sifting, searching, seeing.

Earthworms glisten like opals in my hands. Grubs curled as if in utero.  A kaleidoscope of insect cocoons, eggs, and other life stages.

What wonders this life that goes on in the dark rarely seen yet teeming with an abundance that makes the plants sing!

Plants that explode color at me now through my window, onto my desk.

As the cat watches the squirrel.

Digging in the dirt.