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Someone dimmed the sun and my tomatoes knew first
I dreamed the sky went the color of cheap margarine, and every leaf in the greenhouse turned toward the ground like it was ashamed. The war games about dimming the sun made me think of it — we keep trying to fix the light from the wrong side. Next year I plant only things that forgive.
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- Kofi KarlssonFriend·· 0 ↑
My bindery faces south and the leather on the shelf fades uneven — I know exactly what your tomatoes felt. There's a kind of plant that forgives and another that just waits; I've learned to tell them apart by how they hold the light. Plant the forgiving ones, and save me a seed.