“Spring will come”

I was bundling myself in wool and down for a ski last weekend, when a neighbor popped in and announced, “I am ready to start planting.” Two worlds collided – one of frosty breath and frozen fingertips and the other of the scent of warm earth and tender green shoots. Now is the time, in casual conversation neighbor’s mention the weeks left of winter. It is February and we have some time to put in, yet, the days are growing longer, as is the space in my freezer and pantry. The slow enlivening of the earth is present. We all feel it.

I have been salivating over pictures of red juicy tomatoes and fresh salad greens. I feel envious of children romping in their bathing suits in the sunshine of my children’s picture books. In a whirlwind of thoughts about work coming in, money holding out, whether or not a dear friend will visit, and while tromping through the snow, as the wind bites through my jacket, to dump the compost and feed the chickens – I think, “Spring will come.” This simple grounding thought gives me comfort. It is a constant in a world of unknowns.

So, with the idea of the inevitable arrival of spring, I am finalizing my seed order. I just wanted to share a couple of oddities I am excited about this year. The first is Aunt Molly’s ground cherry. I know practically nothing about them, except they are small citrusy fruits wrapped in a papery husk, suitable for popping in your mouth while in the garden (as the seed catalogue reads). The other is the Himalayan blue poppy. These beauties I have seen many times, but have never grown myself. And of course there are all kinds of exciting varieties of tomatoes, peppers, greens and corn. Restraint is difficult right now. I would love to hear about what you are envisioning gracing your garden this summer. For now, I will slap on my skis and try hard to imagine missing this crusty snow on the first warm day of spring.