In Praise of Sundays

I love the garden and the sound of Sunday morning silence. No cars on the road, no planes overhead, the people are still sleeping. No sound save a few birds getting a start on the day.

This morning it’s late spring and the vegetable garden is just getting to peak. The tomatoes are like The Hulk bulging in clothes too small. The peppers and corn are already in a flowering competition. The basil is so full the whole garden smells like licorice. It smells like summer. It looks like summer. And it’s silent.

In that silence I stop and look around. When I see the lush green growing I think, “this is why I love this.”

Sundays are good.