Full Moon

buried under work are we...  a million things to do like weed, weed, weed, weed, breathe, string tomatoes, water everything frantically, set the last drip tape, weed, harvest, Harvest, HARVEST, WEED, pack seeds for that lovely Kim at Olympia Coop who keeps on movin them!, till down, transplant, sow seeds for next years seed crops, WATER!, eat, sleep, pull all that garlic and set it out in the greenhouse that still needs...plastic!, get it up, string and prune those speedy tomatoes, pinch back the basil, breathe, listen to the thrushes, play w/rowan, hike, swim, listen to music, dance, laugh, marvel at the sunflowers, go to market, tend to the CSA, print seed catalogues and mail them to all you  very very patient people, drive to and fro, bike, watch the full moon rise while stretching for a moment in just the right direction, look at it a long long time and, remember that the weariness of our bones, the  strength of our soil imprinted hands, and the sometimes heaviness of our hearts are also our joy and the fullness of our lives, sit down, breathe, whisper a prayer,  look up, lay down, body to earth, whisper thankyou.

at the farm: snow peas, snap peas, garlic scapes and heads, kales, chard, squash, zuchinni, some very tiny but golden yellow tomatoes, some very tiny but black eggplants, fingerling potatoes!, red sweet onions, scallions, broccoli, cauliflower, parsley, rainbow carrots, radishes, beets, lettuce and mix, bok choi, cucumbers, lots of flowers blooming small but w/ continual whispered encouragement, stretching skyward.