Rarely does gardening, a video and legit writing just effortlessly come together, but today it did. Wrote this 100 piece for the online tribal writing group I'm part of today: Outside in a chopped up tshirt, Pride sports bra, basketball shorts, and loud dad sneakers, I observe the ground. Cottage gardening is relational. I check the fern I transplanted to see if I did it right. I did. Others wait. Spiderwort blooms blue but akilter from hard rain. Beyond the driveway, creeping jenny recently squatted. So far it isn’t in the front yard micro prairie of grasses, thistle, birdsfoot trefoil, white sage, pasque, hostas and lily-of-the-valley, among others in this iyeska space. In the backyard, sage wanders. Woodbine parties near my car, as I deposit cut sage on the dash.