Sunday, March 25, 2012

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. [Rainer Maria Rilke]


 It's been eighty or so for a couple weeks near me. And my seeds are either sprouting or getting ready to be planted. And I'm happy. I've been running around almost-barefoot. And I'm so excited about what I'm going to grow. Blue jade corn! Kaleidescope carrots! Fractal broccoli! (I've been driving everyone I know crazy rejoicing over this broccoli, which, by the way, is sprouting merrily as I speak.)
 And nasturtiums. Which might not otherwise be notable, but they're the first batch of seeds I'd ever saved, so they're special to me. (Awwwwww.)
This last month has been my favorite so far this year. I work as an apprentice gardener. Last fall I planted 350 bulbs, and I've been waiting impatiently all winter to see that amount to something. And guess what? NOW THERE ARE TULIPS EVERYWHERE. Red, fuschia, rose, peach, yellow, orange, orange and yellow, peach and yellow, white. It was definitely worth it. The magnolias have bloomed, and the million pounds of petals the one tree I have to clean up after dropped have been stowed away and begun rotting. The myrtle and mint are growing, and the yard is full of violets, dandelions and accidental hyacinths.
Spring is here.

In spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
 ~ Margaret Atwood