She was never a fancy nor anxious person. Son called her the quite grandma in his remembrance at her graveside service. An unassuming woman that worked hard and saved even harder all her life. She loved the earth and gardening so very much. But the time came when she could no longer safely handle the tiller. It threw her down and she could not get up because the tiller was still turning. To have pulled on it would have turned it over on her. She yelled and yelled to no avail as her husband, the man she called Daddy in her later years, was deaf as a door nail.
She lay on the earth she had tilled for so many decades. The earth that had nourished her children and family with the fruits of her labors. Onto the precious earth her tears fell. Finally she struggled to her knees. Crawling to a safe place to pull herself to her feet. She walked to the tiller and turned it off. But only after she 'put it away' for the day. With her still soiled hand she pushed the thumb latch of the aluminium storm door. She stepped into the enclosed back porch and she realized.... This was probably the last year she would run the tiller and plant her garden.
sparkle atop deep green leaves
purple violet blue
emeralds, sapphires, garnets
clay potted crowns
Oops, this is also a little creatures post!
hiding neath violets
a mouse watches for the cat
startled by dog bark
© Janice Adcock
Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on