tilling

This morning, unusually, I was up before John, awakened by the rooster crowing forlornly if not irritably in the locked-up-tight chicken coop. I kissed him (John, not the rooster), set an alarm for him, and went out in the mist to the animals. The birdies were very pleased to be let out into the fresh green mountain morning. I will just keep every sense attuned to the sound of that fox.

Then as I was about to take off my clogs and go inside for coffee, I heard the distinctive highway sound of an approaching small tractor. Yes, it was Ralphie, our friend who will plow for us for an hourly fee that must barely cover his gas. I was delighted to see him coming--he had said he would but not when--I turned around and ran out to the garden where I had left last year's soaker hose & plastic mulch to moulder under dried plant wreckage & dirt. I hauled that stuff out of the earth and shoved it under the unused pig shed, which took a good fifteen minutes of heavy muddy work. Ralph mutely began to move the enormous compost piles that we have been collecting. I greeted a surprised and nervous little brown garden snake, glared at the chickens who were thinking about flying out of their relatively safe yard to investigate. I hope no birds get preyed upon today and the garden snake doesn't get chopped up.

The garden will look like a perfectly frosted chocolate crumb sheet cake when Ralph is done with it. I must get in there, mark rows, plant & then begin the drudgery of weeding. We will grow such good stuff! Next winter we will eat garden produce all year long, thanks to my newfound skills as a home canner.

Meanwhile in our bedroom in the yellow house, John still slept. I hoped he would wake up curious about the tractor sound but it could just as easily be our neighbors (& Ralphie's ex-in-laws) doing something with one of their machines. So when I was done with the procrastinated plastic-removal I went inside the quiet house, stripped off my filthy muddy clothes & went to check on my beloved. He is so very tired at the end of the school year. He wants to nap when he can. Outside we hear a steady passage of drivers on the way to work; let him sleep in for once. I dress, pet John and reset his alarm clock.

All this before I have my coffee!

Now I'm snug on the couch with laptop, cat & dog. There is a pleasant hum & rattle of Ralph at work. John still sleeps -- oh, there was the rim shot of a toilet seat being opened. Sound waves of songbirds are vying with chickens for territorial rights. The river is high from a week of good rain, the trees are dark with foliage. Everything is damp and lush and ready to grow. Outside for the first time in days, the rooster now crows with brio on behalf of his flock of hens. The sounds float into the misty mountain air. I don't know about other roosters, but ours crow any time they are awake and feeling big.