Getting to the root of the problem...

Tomorrow I'm going to work on laying more soaker hoses. Dark and abrasive, they tear at my hands when I forget to put my gloves on and coil like serpents at my feet. Bent over like a crone, my right knee throbbing, I snake them through and around my plants, tucking them in close to the roots. Twenty five feet, fifty feet, the hoses fall short of what I need and another trip to the store is at hand. Up close to my garden, the leaves brush my face and I try clumsily not to break any branches. It would be so much easier to just throw down some mulch and run the sprinklers all summer, their lazy arcs of water doing the work for me. But I know what the outcome will be and remind myself of the reward as I stand upright, painfully straightening the knee that is far too young to hurt so much. I think ahead to July, August and imagine a lush garden instead of the parched ruins and massive water bills that greeted me each day last summer. Like most things in life, what's easy and what's right are rarely the same so I continue to quietly pin the hoses to the ground, marking their ends and praying for rain. This summer my plants will have water at their roots and I'll have a beautiful garden, the ultimate reward.