Looking for the LIght

"Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light."

Theodore Roethke

           Winter. The SAD season. 

Short cloudy cold days are followed by long dark colder nights. This year has been exceptionally cold, relatively speaking. We've had a most unusual and persistent

 snow, accompanied by the usual blustery wind;   

weeks of wind chill weather without the reprieve of the "January thaw". Just as one sunny, pickleball kind of day comes along, it is immediately followed by clouds from a cold north wind. 

By now, you probably know that I don't relish winter. I don't like the dark. I don't like being stuck indoors. I can only sit still for so long reading or painting or basket weaving. I will only consider housecleaning in extreme boredom, and I have even done some of that this winter.

Last week, there was a brief amnesty granted by the weather warlords. The sun shined. The winds mellowed. My enthusiasm built as temperatures rose and I bounded outside with projects swirling in my head. I raked pinestraw here and spread it again there. I dug and divided and replanted. I trimmed and chopped and pruned I was deliriously exhausted when the day ended, and woke up cheerfully sore from real work. This same schedule lasted for several days, with most of the serious cleanup and mulching jobs done, cuttings taken, a fresh batch of flower seeds broadcast along with the last of the lime and fertilizer. 

  On the final warm day, I cooked a very special dinner for us on the grill and served it on the deck, overlooking the garden, and the water and sunset beyond. I felt energized, organized and satisfied.Alas, it was all over too soon. Mid-February days have returned, with their misty drizzle, brisk winds, miserable bone chilling damp. I am back inside, looking out.But in that week, I cast my eyes wide for hopeful hints to hook and reel in. Spring is coming, and each clue I can find keeps me going. For example, the return bird migration has begun. Large Vs or Ws or lines or even blobs of birds pass over head.   There are  a few pops of early flowers here and there. The maples are starting to show a red tinge across the twiggy tops of leafless woods.

  More of my summer vegetable seeds are sprouting. Bulbs are starting to show their foliage, and early daffodils have a few buds already. Each tiny sign is like a note leading to the thrilling crescendo of the warmth and vigor and light of real spring.
My hibernation is over!! Whether I see my shadow or not, I will not wait 6 more weeks, and I don't have to. I can see the tide turning, and I plan to hang on and ride that wave. I want to dive into the hopes and dreams of tomorrow; to the source of the light.

Gardening simply does not allow one to be mentally old, because too many hopes and dreams are yet to be realized.

Alan Armitage

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.

Audrey Hepburn