"The Thunderstorm, the Seedlings and Me" by Jen

The day was mostly gone and the grey sky decided to release its contents onto the waiting earth of my empty garden. Being compelled to see what kind of a Memorial Day weekend it was to be, I checked the 10 day forecast; the prognosis… rain, and lots of it, for as far into the future as the experts could perceive. Rain means mud. Mud means that it is difficult to till in compost and sow the seeds that have been growing quite impatient as the frost has been long gone for weeks. My few seedlings were becoming root bound and longed so much to wiggle their toes into the dirt that they were beginning to look a bit ill. How could I keep them waiting until the ground was dry again? Who knows how long that would be? The rain, though coming faster, had not yet saturated the ground. There was still time.
I plopped the girls in front of the TV and left Meg in charge as I headed out to the shed donning my bright green rain poncho. There was thunder, but far enough off as to not worry me. As I hurriedly wheeled my wheelbarrow heavily laden with manure past my introverted neighbor who was sitting with his son in his garage enjoying the storm, I felt the need to inform him. “I know it’s dangerous to be out in this lightening,” I exclaimed, “but I just HAVE to get this done!” He looked startled and simply said, “Oh. OK.” It was awkward.

I was pleased to find that the soil was indeed dry enough to till, but I had to work fast, the thunder was growing louder. I got the section for the lettuce all completed, when I suddenly had a vision of being struck by lighting and the girls discovering me there. Yes, I know, my thoughts wander into the morbid at times. Deciding that it might be God giving me a hint, I was overcome by my conscience and begrudgingly trudged with some difficulty up to the house, my feet heavy with mud. Within a couple of minutes, a lightening bolt hit seemingly very close to where I was digging a few moments before! I thanked God for the warning and went down to hug my girls. (OK, there was no bolt of lightening; I just made that part up to make the story more interesting.)

Once the thunder again grew distant, I headed back out to complete the project. It was pouring now and I caught a glimpse of two of my neighbors peering out of their windows at me covered in mud and drenched in spite of my neon rain poncho. I didn’t care. I had done it! The rainy days would now serve me and my emerging plants well. Nature would give them the necessary moisture with which to flourish without me having to water at all.
As I stood in the finished garden, with the torrent of rain unable to drench me any further that it already had, I felt a sudden desire to dance a jig, right there in the mud-puddled path. Concerned that I would only be providing my neighbors with more evidence that I was indeed nuts, I instead said a quiet blessing over the ground. “Creator God, bless this bit of earth that it may be fruitful and bring forth joy and nutrition for me and my loved ones.”

So, my garden is in. This Summer my hard work will be rewarded with three kinds of tomatoes, snap peas, spinach, chard, zucchini, carrots, radishes, beets, broccoli, lettuce, shallots, pumpkins large and small, many different herbs, and colorful flowers in every corner of the yard.

The only thing that would have made my feelings of satisfaction more complete: I should have danced that jig, and invited the girls out to dance it with me.