There's something about the dirt in our bottom land, the rich, earthy smell of newly plowed ground. Even our lab-a-like Eddie knows there's something down in that dirt, as he roams between the furrows and around the edges. Is he looking for the movement of a lizard or field mouse or is it the soft padding underneath his pads that stirs his soul?
I know why the yearly ritual stirs mine: the smell of the ground, the potatoes that will be sprouting eventually, the rattle snake green beans to come, the tomatoes, the tomatoes, the salsa.
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| Eddie walking through the rattlesnake green beans last year. |
