The empty plastic planting containers were turned upside down in a semi-circle. “I want to put pistache trees here.” And so I began to dig.
We have dug and weeded through the years. Our shovels are well-worn, and we don’t replace them for two reasons. First, worn shovels are sharper and cut the dirt easily. I fear the second reason is vanity: the wear is a witness to work. Notice our shovels are straight-necked, which allows for digging straight down.
The soil here is soft, unlike the hardpan of Madera. By the time Ruth had brought the saplings the holes were ready. We made quick work of planting. We like to think the little trees will be happy here with us and beyond. Eileen Mitchell-Gibbs developed the place with every plant and tree known to man, and several, even master gardeners can’t identify. Eileen planted in threes, but we don’t keep her tradition.
A word about the hillside: The mower is all electric and its “gas station” is on the right. The solar panels allow Ruth to mow with wild abandon, and we drive our Volt and Tesla for free.
While digging and tamping in the dirt, I knew a poem was brewing—taking root beside the saplings.
94 total views, 3 views today
