Jordi noticed it first. I don’t know how she spotted it, buried as it was under layers of dead, brown leaves, but there it was. A tiny green sprout, no bigger than a golf pencil. Our garden is coming back to life.
She was standing outside waiting for a friend to show up when she spotted it. She dashed in to grab my arm and drag me out to show me. Of course, now we have to clear out the dead leaves and water the ground and prepare for a new season.
Then her friend showed up to take her off to play, leaving me on my dirty knees sweeping up leaves. How did that happen? I don’t even like gardening! Only the sunshine of Jordi’s smile makes it worthwhile to me. 11 years old and in complete control of me. Today I can see the first glowing purple sprouts of our Wandering Jew and a few green survivors of whatever that perennial was we planted a few years ago. Science lessons are blooming around us. Soon we’ll discuss photosynthesis and the differences between bulbs and seeds. For now, it’s just dirt and possibilities.
And Jordi was back home to smile her radiance of approval. Spring is coming. We’ll plant something again. Maybe it’ll even survive the summer.