Spring Again

Light shining through swiss chard.My second March without a backyard, and while yes, I miss things about the last place we rented together (especially the thick grass where the girls ran circles), our first rental is what I keep conjuring. The explosion of chard and arugula, us battling the spotted cucumber beetles, our wedding altar next to the garden beds.

Now I plant greens in wine barrels outside my duplex, the girls kicking balls up the concrete alley, me with tender starts and spade, and I remember us wild—before marriage and kids, before resentments took root—when we were just churning the soil.


Jess D. Taylor‘s writing can be found in Wraparound South, Creative Nonfiction’s Sunday Short Reads, Little Patuxent Review, Pidgeonholes, Superstition Review, Travelers’ Tales, and elsewhere. She teaches college English, edits Made Local Magazine, and raises her two little girls in Santa Rosa, California.

Photo Credit: Rick Gordon

One Response to “Spring Again”

  1. Elijah Johnson says:

    Great imagery in your story.

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