Today our first daffodil bloomed. What a breath of pure springtime it was, but this one won’t last. Tomorrow it will be gone.
Last week we experienced several delightful warm days culminating in a pretty steamy 80°. Everyone I saw was in shorts and tees, driving convertibles, walking dogs, lunching at cafe tables outside of restaurants.
Me? I was having dirty thoughts… that is, thoughts of getting my hands in the dirt. It was impossible to think of anything but planting so I spent the three days scouring the surrounding area for nurseries that had ANY flowers, herbs, shrubs. And I did come home bearing herbs… lots of herbs and some pansies, a hose, more mulch, and compost.
For two days, I designed, then raked, dug, composted, edged and mulched a precious new kitchen garden. I planted succulent little herbs around a small birdbath. I whistled while I worked. Neighbors who strolled by commented how nice things looked, but I noticed no one else was gardening. Everyone seemed to be outside but not one person was raking, edging, dragging mulch or hose here or there like I was.
Now I know why. I know why the sales lady told me not to plant the herbs. I know why the nurseries were bare. I know why the neighbors walked instead of gardened. Tonight we are having a hard freeze. Already the water in the birdbath has turned to solid ice. I wonder what my neighbors were really thinking when they saw me toiling in the soil. I wonder what they thought today as they saw me dragging out towels to cover the plants. “Silly girl… Doesn’t she know this is Zone 5?”