Where flowers bloom so does hope.
- Lady Bird Johnson
Flowers sprouted prematurely in my community this spring. Maybe it was the mild winter and – or – rains that saturated the soil. This is the best year I can remember for my yard’s flowering flora. Crocus never emerged, but there are clusters of daffodils - white and shades of yellow, and pink and purple gladiolas. Red and white tulips made their appearance, and pink blossoms emerged on the tree in the center of my front yard. A vibrant mélange, a counterpoint to endless weeks spent primarily indoors. The arrival of spring and vivid sunny days heralds the promise once again when we can walk and bike on the boardwalk, talk to neighbors closer than six feet apart minus face masks, visit family, and restart selected small group pre-quarantine activities.
When I was a kid spring meant a new dress for Passover seder and Easter Sunday family get-togethers. Sometimes the holidays felt like spring, warm and sunny, but some years the days were cold, occasionally wet and rainy, and that new lightweight spring outfit inappropriate for wintry weather. But whatever the day brought, I knew spring was just around the corner. The promise of spring meant more time outdoors, shedding sweaters and coats, spring vacation, time to plan summer activities.
Today my barbecue grill sits patiently on the patio eager to cook up delightful dishes. The past few days have been cold and windy, rainy too, so it sat unused. But a cloudless sky and warming temperatures lure me outdoors, and the promise of more mild sunny days lightens my mood.
My vegetable garden – unattended last year and a victim of benign neglect most years - begs for attention. I made it outside one day, weeded, raked, and planted early spring veggies. A manila envelope with a variety of seed packets sat in my garage for at least two years and probably longer, awaiting my garden-gloved hands. This year those seeds will initially feel the damp earth, hopefully see daylight and yield delicious produce. I realize old seeds may not be as robust as new ones, but whatever flourishes will be welcome. Like the promise of spring, my garden promises bounty yet unknown.
To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.
I wish everyone Happy Holidays
and the gift of life coronavirus-free soon.