The first bowl of strawberries from the garden, before the squirrels pick them, or the deer mice sample mouthfuls of several berries for ripeness, daring Mercy to charge out of the house and catch them. The dog lies out in the sun until it’s too hot, waiting for strawberry thieves, but I think the deer mice creep out in the evening or early morning when she’s dreaming.
The first sugar snap peas came on all at once, white blossoms like moth wings folded around their pods.
There’s so much garden to water. There’s so much to learn about publishing a novel.