all green

the first peas

There's something infinitely comforting about tending to a garden. Pulling sucker leaves off a tomato plant or weeding a parsley patch. There are not a great many things that will make me forget that I live in a city of half a million people. Reminders abound in the traffic on the street, the views of cramped buildings, the overcrowded lines at the market. My backyard, though, is a respite from the constant bombardment of people people people. Focusing on something as minuscule as a violet's first sprouting leaves is my salve. And finding the first sweet peas of the summer is more intoxicating than drowning in the beer and buzz of any swarming city bar.