Chapter: What To Hold Onto

Maize is racing barefoot up the old horse path from Louise’s field. Something tiny and green is flinging from an ice cream bucket swinging wildly at his side. He sings up to me stocking corn at the roadside stand, “I picked the cucumbers.”

He must be pretending with new growth pine cones. It will be at least ten days before the cucumbers are mature enough to harvest. The male blossoms have been open for a week, but the female flowers just opened a few days ago and it’s been so cool and wet, I doubt the bees and native pollinators have even been working.

Then I see them clearly—the bucket is full to the top—thin, one-inch, just-on-the-start to becoming cucumbers. How could a five-year old [Read more…]