Cooking without herbs and spice is like missing the sunset

Seasons
In my youth I skipped through the garden, sat in tree houses and ran through the wheat, in my teens I sat on the porch and ate fresh tomatoes from my father's garden, watched my mother baby her plants and turned cartwheels on the grass, as a mother I produced my own produce and gathered annuals for my yard, as an empty nester my green thumbs throbbed and my garden replaced races from soccer fields and church camps, and late night chats with children. My garden pace is slower now, but I once heard the best fertilizer for the garden is your shadow. I love our little piece of heaven on earth!