Gemotions

The earthy scent of the garden filled David’s lungs as he turned the soil. The sun was warm on his back. The rhythmic work of planting and cultivating was a balm to his soul. Each budding plant offered a tiny reward. The quiet chirping of the birds provided a comforting melody. He felt a grounding deep within.

His son, fifteen-year-old Ben, came outside, holding a trowel and a package of seeds. "Dad, can you help me plant these tomatoes?" he asked, a determined look on his face. David smiled, and the feel of the earth against his fingers was already perfect.