Early Harvest
July, 1985
I've always gardened some, but several years ago, while I was living in a balmy little crease in the hills north of San Francisco, I went after the dirt around my house as if it were going to save whatever small scraps of sanity I had left, and maybe it did. Not that it probably looked sane from the next property. I'd still like to hear my neighbors' version of the spring day I walked into the middle of my unplanted garden plot, dropped my pants and sat to test the folk theory that if the soil i...
