In the next few days, I’ll have to take on some work. I went to my vineyard this morning. The clouds were almost black with rain in their fluffy bellies, and the cold wind blew from the north. It was pleasant at times, and in the next moment, very cold. At least I had a shade over my head while digging out weed around the vines. My father and I worked on one end while my mother proceeded to the field next to us to pluck the weed out the onions alley. Three hours passed until the rain started beating the ground. I was lucky to bring a rain jacket, just in case, and saved myself from the strongest shower that caught with us when we were on the road. But if this task failed, others were waiting on me at home. I took a few buckets of water for the flowers and brought a full cart of manure-burnt soil for planting tomatoes. At this point, it’s just preparations, getting the field into good mineral richness for the tomato stems to spread their roots, catch for their new location where they’ll get more water and sunlight. The season is finally beginning.
I took the liberty to snap a few pictures for you. Among the photos, you’ll see the vineyard from this morning and the flowers I have in my garden. The purple flower is Iris. These are somewhat rare but so beautiful. They grew on me over time, and I began paying more attention to the flowers I have around me. As a kid, I mostly wanted to play and didn’t care about what I have in my front yard. As I grew older, I learned to appreciate what I have near me. For example, I never admired the red flower in the photo until a few years back when I realized what my people thought about the iconic value of peonies. Peony is a flower, symbolizing the struggles my people endured through the ages. Seeing the bud now, there’s warmth in me, in my heart, my soul, everywhere. It turned out that you should stop sometimes and smell the flowers. Diabolical, isn’t it?