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Sunlight dances through the leaves and casts enchanting patterns on the ground. I feel a sense of fulfillment as I survey the thriving garden. Months of hard work and in a couple more months the harvest will come. This is my place of peace. Surrounded by my vibrant garden.
“Your garden has been coming along, Pandora.” My friend brushes back her wavy crimson hair out of her flushed face. Shooting me her dimpled grin, she sits a couple of feet away from me. “Most of these plants are far larger than where they typically are at this point in the year.”
Smiling proudly, I nod. “Labor of love.”
The garden contains a large variety of produce including celery, asparagus, lettuce, onions, cucumbers, garlic, leeks, and beans. All of which are helpful for the long winter months. Even the nearby fruit trees seem to be thriving.
Gardening is my passion and thank Gaia for that. My family and I would have starved a long time ago had it not been for my talent and craft.
I kneel in the garden behind my house, tending to my plants.
My best friend Arista focuses on the bean plants at her knees.
Ari has been in my life for as long as I remember. She and I are inseparable.
Stretching my back, I take a second to wipe the sweat off my brow and pull my chestnut hair into a hasty plait over my shoulder.
The muggy summer air pools at my skin. Lingering around us. Hardly a cloud crosses the sky. Instead, the earth bears the full burden of the sun.
Serves me right.
Had I gotten up on time, I wouldn’t be out in this blistering heat. My gardening would’ve been done well before noon.
But I hate mornings.
Always have and I suspect I always will.
My friend chuckles from across the patch.
“What?” I shoot her a challenging look.
Tipping her chin toward me, she laughs. “You missed a curl.”
Groaning, I pat my hair. Searching for the offending lock of hair. Once I find it, I weave the end into my plait. Not having the energy to restart my braid from scratch. “Better?” I ask as I wait for my friend's approval.
“Better.” She grins.
Sighing, I return to the dirt with its creepy crawling insects amongst my plants. Even with the intense warmth, I love every minute of the outdoors.
Arista muses, “A touch of magic can transform the world. But when magic isn’t available, it takes hour upon hour of dedicated effort to make meaningful change.”
Contemplating her words, I reply, “I suppose you're right. When did you become a philosopher?” Scrunching my nose, I grin mischievously at her.
“Oh, you know me, I'm a lady of many trades.” She winks at me before tipping her head back down to the garden. A mournful look crosses her face. “I wish there were more flowers,” Ari’s soft voice pressed.
Opening my mouth to speak, I mumble, “Flowers aren’t great sources of food.”
Whether Arista heard me or not, I couldn’t tell. Instead, she proceeds on, either ignoring me or from being so immersed in her thoughts. “Vegetables and fruits are nice and all, but flowers have their own uncanny beauty.”
She has got a point there. Even flowers have their value. Even if it’s for our kitchen table or a nice garland. Then of course, there are those healing properties found in some plants. The ones that Dad insisted that I learn like the back of my hand.
Though Dad is the better apothecarist compared to me. I’m more of a gardener who dabbles in tinctures.
But when life gets hard and food is scarce, then stocking our empty shelves becomes more of a priority. Tinctures don’t fill the stomach. Salves don’t hide the pains of hunger.
No, when times are tough, we don’t scour the earth to bolster our supplies of ingredients for remedies, ailments, and the like. Instead, we strive to fill up on the basics.
Our only exception to this comes down to florals. Flowers are scarce in this land. When we find them, we dry them.
