- By Kate Adie
- Around Town
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As I peer outside my rain-spotted window at the gloomy, gray day, I think, “I need to check my garden and it is raining.” Sighing, I resentfully slip on my shoes and put on my wind breaker. The deck is slippery from the tiny puddles that are forming, so I slowly tip-toe off the deck into the sparkling emerald grass. The ground is like a sponge that needs to be squeezed. With every step, muddy water gushes out from under my foot, then quickly absorbs into the ground again.
I squish and squash my way over to my snap peas. I kneel down and peer into the forest. Some of the peas are still an ivory color and are little buds. Others are Kelly-green moon-shaped crescents. They look like they are ready to be eaten so I reach out and take one. Biting it in half, I slowly start to chew the crisp, sweet snap pea. Its flavor is very delicate and dainty, but still delectable. After grabbing a woven basket that is starting to split from many years of use, I pick the ripe snap peas and place them in the basket.





