Gardening is therapeutic. Hacking at dead vines, uprooting weeds, spreading your hands into the thick soil. Timid stems pop up, defying gravity. You watch life grow, albeit slowly. A week later, the cluster of green ellipsoids turns into a bold red, and the tomatoes swell with juice and tangy seeds.
At the end of the day, you are exhausted, but it’s an exhaustion that lingers with a fuzzy glow.
Note: garden courtesy of wonderful grandparents.