Spring is close, and then so far. Our snow fills deep shade, the nights are cold. Frosted roofs dusted, and revealed by sunlight each morning.
Buds want to open, branches fill the air. It's a matter of timing, of waiting, of wishing. Of being realistic. The sun shone like May, but the wind still bit like February. * In happy pockets of warmth Snowdrops race against swelling buds, fooling us into thinking it's going to happen sooner than the forecasts predict. Deep in my heart there is a desperate need for the green sprouts of bulbs, for sun filtered through greenhouse glass. A clamoring for spring. I may say it's only to visit, not to adopt, but there they sit, clothed in dirt, stuffed into mismatched green plastic pots, calling out to me. Who could not want to take them home? My desire wrestles with the knowledge that they will freeze. Look away, the time will come. Seasons change, Spring is certain to follow Winter. What we do not know is when it will happen.
It's in my gardener's heart, to want to plunge my hands deeply into a new bag of sun warmed potting soil once again. To scoop, to t amp, poke, and plant until my aching back will not allow me to stand any longer. The gardener in me lives for when I once again experience the feel of gritty pumice scratching my palms, mingling with the moist dampness of peat moss. To sift soil between my fingers, gloves heedlessly tossed to the ground. Dreaming of sun warming the back of my neck, birds calling in the trees, one eye on the cat who likes to wander. Attention caught by the slight breeze that is encouraging opened seed packets to spill their contents.
I yearn to feel the unfamiliar heft of a full watering can, after almost two seasons of it sitting empty. The way the rivulets of water rush off the edge of the potting bench as I water my new babies, wishing them into full grown beauty. The dreams, the planning, the waiting…all coming together. And in that we are given our first bit of spring.
P.S. Thanks so much for visiting, I don't know if you've read this post but Winter really seems to have rolled over. And I can't wait to buy some potting soil.
*"The sun shone like May, but the wind still bit like February," courtesy of The Root of the Root. Find their Instagram feed here.