Got some serious planting done yesterday. Every year I am surprised at how muddy mud can be, then surprised again as I wash my hands in the sink, the dirt tracking into the drain, dark and sinuous, like blood from a deep wound.
The difference? There's a lot more life in a handful of decent dirt than in my veins.
I don't recommend that every child see her own blood washed down the drain, but I do recommend a life where that remains a possibility.
Photo by Leslie.
Now that's a lot of mud.
2 comments:
Best. Mud cracks. Ever.
Dear Dirt,
I need to get back there again--it's a challenge to walk on it.
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