I opened the car door in time to get a faint whiff of acidic tomatoes, aged parmesan, and a handful of herbs. A heavy wooden gate led to the finest attended raised bed vegetable and flower garden in Patagonia, Arizona. The two dogs, Mary and Zilpha, greeted us first, waiting patiently behind the green screen door. The soft voice of Linda came from the kitchen, and then the rasping smoky voice of Jim’s circled the corner and resonated in our ears. “Hi” is always the first thing Jim says.
Read the rest here.
No comments:
Post a Comment