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The more things change...

Change is not so much what we make as it is what happens to us unawares. Not everything that changes is progress but it is inevitable that everything changes. The seasons flow on, all too quickly. We tighten our life-vests, and try to steer clear of the rocks. Along our way down the river, we are grateful for every resting place. Here's ours. Above, as it was in our first August here in 2016, and below, as it is now. We still miss the old cherry tree in the foreground of the first photo. It died the year after we moved here. We've carved a garden out of the hill and planted blueberries on the slope above. One thing hasn't changed. We're still here. It's still home. We'll hold to that reality as long as we can. henrymitchellbooks.com

Under the hill...


Here's a glimpse of our wee veggie garden, like all our gardening space, carved out of the side of a hill. Hard to see it all from this angle, but there're tomatoes here, and winter squash, malabar spinach, okra, kale, beets, onions, carrots, asparagus, komatsuna and basil.

It isn't as wild as it looks. Everything grows handy to weed and water, tend and harvest. On the terraced hill above to right, out of the picture, are blueberries. If I'm still above ground next year, I want to put in some raised beds up there among the berries where there's more sun for annuals.


henrymitchellbooks.com

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