"nitrogen"

Rows of sweet green peas ready to pop from their pods, wispy green carrot tops, rosebud-like lettuce tipped with eggplant purple, the promise of asparagus. Sweet pea flour hangs on the air tickling my nose as I inhale more of the delicate floral notes. The gritty, sandy soil is dug so deep under my nails, the knees of my overalls patched with red clay dirty stuck in every cross weave. The rooster yells as I pass, infringing on our agreement of space, pecking at the fence and trying to intimidate me. The sun warms my face as I remove the wide-brimmed thatched straw hat and tilt my face upwards like a child’s hands at communion. The warmth travels in waves down my neck, sending welcome shivers despite the heat.