Broken Glass

Glass. There is a lot of it in this yard. It baffles my mind to try to piece together a theory explaining why there is so much of it buried here. It seems like every day I uncover more shards or catch their glinty edges gleaming in the sun. And it feels like finding a rattle snake laying in wait for the tender soles of my kids to come running by. It is a tiny frustration really. But on days when I’m feeling hemmed in by all the concrete, its enough to convince me that it’s time to quit this place for something less urban - fewer people, less brokenness. 

But even our little corner of earth, though in the floodplain of city sprawl, has been the stage for some of our happiest moments. And especially now. Confined as we are to our terrarium, we are looking around at the earth below our feet with even deeper gratitude, curiosity and joy than normal.

Photo by Fritz Ifert-Miller

Walks in the yard this time of year are cause for much excitement. “Bud of the day!” is a game I’m trying to play with my kids. “What new plant can we find emerging today?!” Yesterday, it was the deep green knot of a fern.  This weekend it a radiant pink peach petal.

And right next to a narcissus bulb blooming … more glass.

This one however was different. It had soft edges. Worn smooth by the action of soil, water and time. It even had a certain amount of opalescence.

Bending on my my hands and knees, studying this little treasure reminded me of hunting for geodes in my backyard as a kid. In my mind, every roundish rock could possibly be the treasure I was seeking. I smashed Rock after rock in search of the the elusive sparkling gems inside.  I don’t remember giving up. Though I must have. 

Wendell walks our little yard the same way. He wants to know if we find a diamond the size of our house, how we’d get it out of the ground. And I humor him, never wanting him to loose the possibility of house-sized diamonds buried in the earth right outside his door.

Photo by Fritz Ifert-Miller

Preparations for a summer of color and flavor have begun here (though truthfully they never really stop). We’ve seeded snap dragons and sugar peas. Our porch planters are ready. We’ve planted three apple trees along the drive way, including one into a rock that was quite possibly the size of our house. Last year’s kale is providing a magical show of rebirth. And each day I check the grape vines, excited for the leafy canopy they’ll provide enroute to our chicken coop.

One blessing in the current crisis is that we’re not facing this isolation down with an entire winter ahead. I don’t think we could survive this home schooling adventure if we didn’t have mother nature in bloom to help with the parenting. If you think you don’t have anything in your yard worth spending much time with, I challenge you to look again. Even pieces of broken glass can have soft edges and opalescent hues. Soil can transmute almost anything. Learn the names of the birds or the weeds. Send the kids out with a camera! Wendell took the Ricoh out today came back in with this gem. He even wrote up the caption:

And if you want to get planting and need some help knowing where to start send us some questions. We’re happy to help.