To take a break, I walk or cycle.
Or visit with friends.
Or watch a movie.
I read too, but that doesn't count as taking a break from words.
Or I water my garden. I belong to the douse-the-soil school. A lot of my gardening neighbours prefer to spray the leaves. Spraying is more graceful. I stand there with the hose and smell the wet soil. Listen to the trains go by on the embankment. The birds in the trees, the wind in the leaves. There's a wooded area beside the plots. We have an amazing community garden in Pointe St-Charles.
|Hot peppers that I plan to preserve in olive oil|
|beets in the sun|
|I keep cutting back the fennel greenery to see if that will make the bulbs grow|
|The biggest tomato to date|
|Snow peas. I can never see the pods and have finally realized I have to pick them by feel.|
|Lebanese cukes. They're growing.|
There are other ways to spend time away from words but taking care of plants is good. And soon enough the tomatoes and cucumbers and beets and fennel will be ready to harvest. (A lot faster than a book.)
I'm also growing radishes, lettuce, arugula, red onion, rhubarb, eggplant, basil, green beans, and zucchini, but that's it for the pictures.
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