I was rotating the baby plants so that their stems grow sort of straight (really need to install those other lights in the greenhouse box!) and I got a whiff of the scent of a tomato plant. With the warm weather, being able to plant my peas and lettuce outside and coming and going from work with it light enough to require sunglasses, I think I can understand why poets wax poetically. I'm no good at rhymes though, so I will give haiku a try...
Baby plants in pots
Love the smell of tomatoes
Spring came to Philly
Two suburban girls relearning how to garden in an urban environment. With occasional input from their guys.
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