The exhilaration of the season gets us up in the morning. 

Early. 

It gets us going even, or perhaps, especially in the rain.

The tastes of our plants, their likes and dislikes, override our own. 

I plant seeds in the hot greenhouse knowing how much they enjoy the heat, 

I wipe sweat from my eyes with a dirty hand.

I transplant tender new friends during periods of gentle rain knowing how it will ease their transition. 

Mud caked clothes pile up on the bathroom floor. 

I make brews of comfrey tea to nourish my young plants.

I don’t think about lunch for us until well past three. 

The bright sunshine grows sturdy strong stems,

my own joints and muscles cry out for attention.

Ahh, but the rewards are great.

I’m not tired, you’re tired.