Grace squatted between the rows of Russian Kale, in time the cooler fall temperatures would transform their green leaves to a deep burnished red foliage. Near each row she pushed a tall spindle into the ground registering the location which would enable her to find them if snowfall came early.
Kale was dear to Grace, not because she was particularly fond of salads or spinach-like foods but because of its nature. Kale survives frost and sustains even beneath a blanket of snow. While some of the harsher elements destroy the more fragile species, Kale preserver’s and sweetens in adverse conditions. In many respects Grace felt akin to Kale and she had always thought the real trick was finding the capacity to be sweetened despite life’s bitter elements.
As the clouds billowed in a profusion of gray, blotting sunlight from the afternoon sky, Grace stood up and brushed at bits of debris on her gloves and jacket. On most days she wished for warm, sunny fall weather but today the somber gray sky echoed her mood. She frowned at his property slowly walking towards his newly purchased lot, she couldn’t fathom her father selling it, had it even been listed for sale? The only thing for certain was that he must have paid a considerable amount to be allowed to build so close. She tried to image where the house would be sited and wandered towards the property line as if the land itself had summonsed her.