“Kristin,” Dad repeated, his voice so unbelievably calm and quiet that I instinctively froze my fingers over the screen.

“Let us just wait patiently and hear what the county inspector has to say first.”

“Dad, they are going to force you to dig up the entire garden,” I warned.

“Maybe they will, or maybe they will not,” Dad replied softly.

“How can you possibly remain so calm about this?” I asked, feeling exasperated.

He looked out the window at the tall corn rustling in the morning air and the heavy tomato plants bending under their own weight.

“Because I have been growing crops on this land for nearly seventy years,” he explained gently.