Our garden behind us runs wild like children chasing bubbles.
We are sticking with contained spaces this year.
Big projects cannot be harnessed with our little energy.
The wild garden will be ‘fallow’ this year.
We will still garden though.
The coveted Nana pots are brought out and chosen.
“Boys, take as many as you want.”
Pots and plants are carefully chosen.
Filling our pots.
Filling our souls.
Helping our plants grow.
Helping us go deeper.
Oh, the son.
Both lights on this earth.
Holding us together.
Plants in a pot.
Ah, my sons.
Incredibly hardworking, creative, playful…
Gardener’s that Nana would be proud of.
Haha! I just reread my title, we aren’t growing marijuana, just keep everything in pots.