The house on Georgina and 16th is scary!
When I was little — early elementary school age — we grew marigolds in our yard. When the flowers shriveled up, my mom and I picked them off the plants, and she set me at the kitchen table to pull the seeds out of the flower heads and put them on a piece of paper. They came out easily, and I liked how it felt. I liked seeing them slip out together. When we were done, we put them in envelopes for next year. It’s one of my first memories of understanding seeds and gardening. Not just having the technical knowledge, but feeling how things worked.
At Arlington Garden in late summer, pomegranates ripen on the trees.
As the branches sway in the breeze, the hose sways with them, and the ripples in the pot move from an always shifting center.