My raised garden beds came to life this week, and I’m an excited Garden Daddy. I took these eight photographs this morning, we are having our festival of color and light on the farm, and it ought to be shared.

I knew I would like the raised garden beds,  but the truth is I love them very much. They inspire me, stir me, and lift things Color and light are the best medicine in the world to lift us up, and I will faithfully record their growth, evolution, and color.

Watching them grow – and caring for them –  is a remarkable experience. I began my photography by taking photos of dead leaves. I’ve come  a way.

So here it is. Above, the first Begonia to open up.

Nature is the world’s finest artist. I’m fascinated to track the birth of the first red Zinnia flower.

My memorial garden for the children slaughtered in America in their classrooms – are we forgetting already? – is rebounding, for me, a sign of hope, color, and beauty.

These are not things they can take away from us. The garden reminds me to keep my heart open.

It looks like a beating heart to me.

Nasturtiums don’t live long, but they shine a lot of light while they are around and drop many seeds for the future.

The coreopsis wait for the sun to rise, then they shine with it. The plants and flowers light up as the sun rises behind the beds.

Here come the primrose seeds, planted just a week ago.