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lost

I stand at my upstairs window overlooking my garden with several thoughts running through my mind. Uppermost is joy with what we have accomplished in our first spring here. The concrete basketball court, willow tree, decorative-shrubbery-filled retaining wall and expanse of lawn are all gone.

Replacing it is one set of 20′ rows and another set of 30′ rows of “edible landscape”. Blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, asparagus. peas, broccoli, spinach, potatoes, watermelon, cantaloupe, zucchini, squash, sweet red/orange/yellow peppers, tomatoes, cilantro, mint and cherries all occupy the space once given to decoratively framing the Weber barbeque and patio furniture.

I have a bunch of pits and trenches left to be filled where I’m repairing and re-engineering the irrigation system. I have some poles planted and others yet to plant so we can eat the fruit rather than feed the starlings – via a framework of lumber and bird netting.

I’m clearly coming down home stretch. A lot of food is doing very well. A lot of soil is responding quite quickly to the TLC we give it. Earthworms abound. Digging is pretty easy. The compost mountain range is about right and delightfully included in the irrigation plan… we WILL have good potting soil for our starts next spring.

It’s a bit late in my evening for grand philosophical thought, but I was imagining a view from 300-feet higher. Looking down on our neighborhood beyond the adjacent yards I can actually see I know our yard will be The Only One that is not lawn and decorative shrubbery. Ours will be The Only One with food in it. Ours will be The Only One where the landowners are practicing feeding themselves out of the dirt and water that fate has granted them.

Why?

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I suspect the answers lie in the preceding four-years’-worth of blog entries here.