​Ava dug her hands into the rich, black soil. It was cold and a bit damp. It was time to harvest the potatoes from her small, raised, backyard garden. She felt around the soft dirt until her fingers hit something firm as the sun warmed her body. Ava gently lifted the spuds from their dark, cozy home, giving them a quick shake before holding them up to her sweaty face. She briskly dusted the remaining soil from them, breathing in their earthy aroma as she did. She could almost taste the freshly baked, salty flesh flavored with silky butter; the skin browned to the perfect golden hue that you know will snap with the first bite. Ava absent-mindedly swatted away some annoying, buzzing flies as she daydreamed about dinner. She finished her rooting and stood up. She patted the soil away from her knees and scanned the garden. Her eyes landed on a healthy, green bunch of parsley--just the perfect garnish to top off her baked potatoes.