Placeholder opening in your voice. A month of mornings on the acre: dew on everything, lettuce in the first bed, the beans just starting to climb.
Placeholder. One tripod so far. The rest of the poles are drying by the tent.
What the month taught
Placeholder. The small, concrete lesson of the month, the kind that turns up later in a conversation with a founder.
One tripod so far, more when the poles dry.
Written at the tent, dew on the grass. Placeholder.
— Janaka