Hi, my name is Rhonda and I'm a Master Gardener Intern. Normally, I would be out attending lectures, weeding public gardens, teaching people what I've learned, working in Farmer's Markets, and functioning in a plethora of other useful Master Gardener Intern activities, but, like many of you, I'm grounded, locked away in a global world of social isolation.

I've planted a vegetable garden, which I'm maintaining with diligence hereto unknown to me. I'm engaging in weed and insect stalking operations, which is mostly a good thing, but is bordering on obsessive. Plus, the garden isn't growing fast enough to fulfill my needs. After all, you can only stare at your cucumbers for so long, willing them to produce so you can make pickles. I needed more to do.

Exasperated, I turned to Social Media, Netflix, old westerns, anything for something new, but my soul was not fed. I was at my wits end. I'm sure you understand; I was in good company.

And then I made a new find... Nature's freebies. My first discovery was dewberries, or blackberries. Our fence line was covered with them. For several days, armed with a bucket and covered in protective clothing that would rival any for medical protection, I took life and limb in hand and picked through the brambles for enough of these tiny delicacies to make jelly, wine, and a refreshing drink.

The activity was great, but short lived. What else could I find? Then I remembered a lecture in our Master Gardener class by Daniel Cunningham from Texas A&M AgriLife Extension that led me to another wild treat... dandelions. Known mostly as a weed, this flower is not only edible, but nutrient rich as well.

Back to the pasture I went with my bucket, but not so much PPE. No stickers this time, no frightening bug infested briers, but I planned to be wary of other pasture denizens, such as snakes and overly large spiders. I bravely collected scores of golden blossoms to be used for much the same purposes as the berries.

My takeaway from these adventures has been more than just the physical rewards of jelly and wine, more even than the exercise I so desperately needed. It gave me a great sense of connection, not with other people so much, but with nature itself. There in the pasture, or walking along the fence line, I felt less alone.