[bright music] - Hi, friends.

My name is Anna.

I actually just came inside from playing in the garden with my daughters and their grandmother.

We love digging in the dirt and finding all, like, the little bugs and creepy crawlies we can find, and then also, like, picking the flowers and the vegetables.

Well, it's funny, because the story I was going to read today is all about the joy and wonder of gardening.

Would you like to listen to the story?

Great!

So, the story that I'm going to read to you today is called "Up in the Garden and Down in the Dirt" by Kate Messner, with art by Christopher Silas Neal.

As we're reading, pay close attention not only to the awesome things growing above the ground, but what's happening beneath the surface.

"Up in the garden, I stand and plan, my hands full of seeds and my head full of dreams.

Spring sun shines down to melt the sleepy snow.

Wind whistles through last year's plants and mud sucks at my rain boots.

'It's not quite time,' Nana says.

'Down in the dirt, things need to dry out and warm up.'

'What's down there?'

I ask.

'Down in the dirt is a whole busy world of earthworms and insects digging and building and stirring up soil.

They're already working down in the dirt.'

Up in the garden, we snap brittle stalks, scoop rusty armfuls, and wheel away weeds for the chickens.

While they squabble and scratch, we spread compost over the soil.

Down in the dirt, pill bugs chew through last year's leaves.

I give a gentle poke.

They roll up tight and hide in plated suits of armor, rolly polly round.

Up in the garden, it's time to plant.

I trail a furrow with my finger and sprinkle seeds in a careful row.

'Give them a drink,' Nana says.

We pat them down to snuggle in the dark.

Down in the dirt, a tomato horn worm rests, waiting for wings, and the leaves where she'll lay her eggs.

Up in the garden, carrot plants sprout.

Pea blossoms bloom.

Wasps are on the prowl.

And honeybees visit, legs loaded with pollen.

I weed and wilt in sun so strong, even Nana looks for shade.

Down in the dirt, earthworms tunnel deep.

I'm jealous of their cool, damp dark.

Up in the garden, rain shower!

Nana turns the hose on me.

Ee!

I hide behind the cucumber vines, but their leaves can't save me.

I shiver and laugh, drenched in Nana's rain.

Down in the dirt, water soaks deep.

Roots drink it in, and a long-legged spider stilt walks over the streams.

Up in the garden, there's so much to eat.

Ladybugs feast on aphids.

Nana crunches green beans.

I bite a ripe tomato, warm from the sun.

Juice dribbles down my chin.

Down in the dirt, a robin's beak finds a cricket, a beetle, a grub.

Slugs are scrumptious, too.

Up in the garden, we pick cukes and zucchini, harvesting into the dark.

Bats swoop through the sunflowers, and I pluck June bugs from the basil until it's time for bed.

Down in the dirt, skunks work the night shift.

They snuffle and dig and gobble cutworms while I sleep.

Up in the garden, a praying mantis wakes to hunt mosquitoes.

Nana sprays away the aphids, and I'm after grasshoppers, ready to swoosh, but...

Snap!

Someone else is faster.

Down in the dirt, a smooth, shining garter snake crunches on supper.

Up in the garden, the wind grows cool.

Pumpkins blush orange and sunflowers bow to September.

Nana ties them together to build a house for reading.

Down in the dirt, an orb-weaver spins her web, strand by silken strand.

She'll munch on moths tonight.

Up in the garden, colored leaves litter the squash vines, and we know the cold is coming.

Hurry, hurry and harvest!

There's enough for the neighbors, too.

Down in the dirt, frantic ants gather what we leave behind.

They're storing food for cooler days ahead.

Up in the garden, frost draws lace on leftover leaves where secret egg sacks hang, waiting for the warm to return.

We say goodbye and spread the winter blankets.

Down in the dirt, beetles burrow and scurry.

Earthworms curl tight in the dark.

When Grandpa calls us in for soup, an autumn moon is rising.

Up in the garden, dry corn stalks tremble, and the wind smells like winter.

But the long, ripe days of summer still rest in the garden beds.

The ladybugs and bumblebees, earthworms and ants, are hunkered down, hiding, biding their time, dreaming of sunshine and blossoms and sprouts, until the bare arms of trees and the blanketing snow, a whole new garden sleeps, down in the dirt."

How cool was that story?

Did you notice all the bugs crawling around underneath?

I think my favorite was when the little ants were scurrying, trying to gather everything before the winter.

Well, I hope you enjoyed today's story.

Until next time.

Bye!