“I stand in rows anonymous.” Jorie Graham’s poetry jumps into my mind as I dance between lines of mulch. There’s the left lean to the ground with two gloved hands scooping, the black wood gathered up, and then the swing right for the drop in the rich line between planting rows.
I’m becoming a vegetable gardener and a flower gardener. I pat the ground around my seeds, like I did my babies’ bottoms when I rocked them. These are like promises to me, future givers in tiniest form: the basil seeds before the joy of pesto and the helpless wrap of fingers in my hair as I nurse.
… Continue reading over at The High Calling.
Dear Seth, Every single thing that belongs to me tells me not to sit down here to write this letter. These days, I would rather go to the back of the property with a 99 ¢ notebook and scribble ink in handwriting through work gloves, but it’s true that when I’m working outside, I think […]
May 1, 2015 By Amber
I spent the entire month of April in the dirt, along the flower beds and the garden. I doubt I’ve ever washed my hands more, and yet tiny cracks in my fingers seem permanently darkened. I can’t wash it all away, and I don’t want to. I’m engaged with this land. Every seed or root […]
Before reading this, you’ll need to understand what it means to be a “highly sensitive person.” Let me start by saying I haven’t read any books about it because I’m too busy being overwhelmed. Go on and google it, but if you’re anything like me, you’ll take a test to see how sensitive you are, and […]
Dear Seth, It was January when we decided we would write letters on New Seasons. The branches then were cold gray and like wide-open fingers allowing everything to slip through: the wind, the engines, the peek at neighbors’ piled-up yards. We knew spring would come and cover us again. It would fill out with yellow forsythia […]
Before you begin here, read part 1 of this story: Disappointment by the Mediterranean Sea. Before our Shabbat meal, my mind turned like a rock polisher full of too many rocks, and my legs felt the weight of a week’s walk. As we poured the wine and clinked our glasses together, as we tore the braided […]
March 17, 2015 By Amber
Two Fridays ago, I entered the old City of Jerusalem as the sun set and Sabbath began. Our kind host greeted us at the gate and led us winding uphill between stone walls like a maze. I would have been lost in two minutes had he not been leading. This gentleman hosts authentic Shabbat meals […]