It was a beautiful spring day, sunny and warm with just a slight breeze - the first nice weather in at least a week, and just what I needed to finish the job. We were scheduled to hold the grand unveiling in just a few days - on Earth Day. The garden was nearly ready, and I felt a combination of pride and relief. And sweat. As I rushed to plant the last of the seeds and sprouts before he arrived, I thought back over the immense amount of work I'd put in over the past few months.
I was a senior at the college, and that semester had volunteered to lead a group of my fellow students in putting together a community garden on some vacant land owned by the campus. The goal was to set it up for composting and organic growing, and once it was up and running, to be able to provide produce to a local food bank. My job would be to coordinate what was sure to be a large number of volunteers, work to get some local businesses to contribute money and supplies to the effort, and try to get press out to the community. My professor assured me that it'd be a great experience, but I hardly needed his input to jump at the opportunity.
Truth was, I missed this kind of hands-on work. I had grown up on a farm, and although I appreciated that going away to school had opened up lots of new doors for my future, I still sometimes missed the simple pleasure that could come from working the land. So, you can imagine my pleasure when I was able to convert a former vacant lot, overgrown with weeds and the occasional abandoned car, into a vegetable garden that would provide healthy food for needy families.
And even those days when I spent more time at a computer or on my cell phone than digging in the dirt were a great learning experience for me. I'd made some great connections with local business owners, who donated the lumber for the planting beds, snacks for volunteers, and coffee grounds for the compost. It was John - whose cafe's coffee grounds were feeding our rich soil - that I was supposed to meet today. We hadn't met in person yet, and he had called yesterday to say that he wanted to stop by to introduce himself and see the results of the project.
**********
I arrived early, parked down the block from the garden, and watched her work. Truth be told, I'd been watching her off and on for the past week, after one of my assistants returned from a visit to the garden with a report that she was a hottie. I wasn't sure that she was really my type - a bit of a 'granola', you might say - but there was something about her that fascinated me.
Everything about her seemed to be natural. She was obviously a true blonde, her long hair cascading freely down her back. She looked strong, I thought to myself as I watched her scoop dirt from a wheelbarrow into a raised bed, as if from work rather than from a gym membership. And her breasts - well, it was hard not to watch as her ample bosom bounced while she walked. A lot of women have paid good money for a rack that big, but given the rest of her persona, they had to be real.
Snap out of it, I told myself as I shifted my weight in the driver's seat, my cock beginning to grow uncomfortably. What kind of girl wears a long hemp skirt and sandals to work in the garden? She probably doesn't even shave her legs. I chuckled to myself, realizing how much she'd gotten under my skin, and climbed out of the car. Time we finally met.
**********
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I rested the shovel against the fence and admired my work. After a few moments, I sensed movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see a man walking towards me. That must be him - tall, confident walk, nice suit. I'd have to wait until he got closer to see if he was also dark and handsome.
He was definitely the square businessman type, although I'd been impressed in our conversations over the phone how aware he seemed to be about environmental issues. He'd been quite excited at the prospect of having a local site to donate his coffee grounds for composting, because his cafe didn't have room to compost on site, but he hated just to throw everything away. And he'd made a point of bragging to me about how he got his milk from a local dairy.
Dark and handsome indeed, I quickly realized. I tried to look cool as I watched him approach, but he quickly won me over with a generous smile, and I dropped the facade. Better to be myself anyway.
"You must be Gretchen," he said, as I looked up into his big dark eyes.
"That's me! Nice to finally meet you, John. Let me show you around." Funny how I always build an image of someone from their voice. I'm usually wrong, but in this case, I'd been right on, even down to his age, which I guessed was around 40.
I walked from one raised bed to another, pointing out the different vegetables we'd planted, explaining why we'd chosen seeds in some cases and starts in others, and mentioning again the big celebration coming up for Earth Day.
