This morning:

Waylon wakes smiling, Papa already has chai made, and the three of us laugh as Waylon bounces on the bed.

Papa puts his boots on, gets ready to do chores, and straps Waylon in the backpack.

Outside, clouds blanket the Worcester Range, the cricket song of last night is replaced by bird calls through the trees.  Water is still in the air after two days of rain despite yesterday afternoon’s sun, but it feels good.  We all needed this: the soil, the plants, the animals, and us.  We needed to be quenched, cleansed, refreshed.

It’s Edge’s first father’s day, and today we’ll work, doing what we love, cultivating the garden, seeding a new round of lettuce mix and asian greens, assembling the hoops for a hoop house.  We’ll end the day at my parents’ house with barbecue chicken and wine.  But first, father’s day breakfast!  Waffles with ice cream and slivered almonds.  He most certainly deserves it.


Father's Day Morning
Father’s Day Morning, Sheep and chickens in the pasture