A Song by Rich Mullins is Why I Love Green

Every house must have its builder, and I awoke in the house of God
Where the windows are mornings and evenings
Stretched from the sun, across the sky north to south
And on my way to early meeting, I heard the rocks crying out
I heard the rocks crying out

Be praised for all Your tenderness by these works of Your hands
Suns that rise and rains that fall to bless and bring to life Your land
Look down upon this winter wheat and be glad that You have made
Blue for the sky and the color green that fills these fields with praise

- From The Color Green, by Rich Mullins (1955-1997)

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Watermelons and Cantankerous Tillers

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that there are heroes in my garden beyond the ladybugs. I mentioned Mr. Cross in an earlier post, and I mentioned my favorite 12-year-old helper, Colin, who hauled manure and built snow pea teepees and generally kept the best attitude of any 12-year-old boy I've ever seen.

But I didn't mention Joe. Joe and his family used to come over here
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