Spring is my favorite time of the year. It doesn’t matter that I spent the past three months in sunny Florida where every day seemed like summer, there is no substitute for arriving home to find the happiest of spring flowers, the daffodil, in bloom. The temperature is mild, the sun brightens the house, and blades of green are bringing color back to the lawn.
There’s something about the spring air, so clean and invigorating. All around us, people rejoice in new life as the sun beckons us outside in shirtsleeves and plants poke their heads through the soil to see if winter is past.
We went to our community garden today for the first time since late October. After clearing it of weeds, we discussed building up the soil with topsoil and manure. As soon as the soil dries and the plot is tilled, we’ll be able to plant.
“Are you planting anything new this year?” my neighbor asked.
I laughed. For the past few years I’ve experimented with broccoli, cabbage, and brussels sprouts, all vegetables I love. The cabbage was my most successful venture in growing cruciferous vegetables, at least the first year. The second year I left the heads on the plant too long, and they were consumed by cabbage bugs. My row of broccoli plants yielded enough broccoli for a one-cup serving.And while my brussels stalks flourished, they refused to produce any sprouts.
I think I’ll stick to my regulars–lettuce, beets, tomatoes, peas, green and wax beans, and zucchini. If I feel adventurous, I’ll plant baby carrots.
While at the garden, these preschool children passed by on their afternoon walk. Their voices filled the air with energy and excitement. They called out cheerful hellos and waved.
Returning home, I found other reasons to smile. Looking down at our rock garden, I spotted a new addition, a cheerful painted rock left there by a very special neighbor. And another neighbor, one with a very green thumb, had returned my orchids, which she had kept for me over the winter. Aren’t they lovely?
But perhaps best of all was the picture my nephew sent of his son. If we didn’t live so far apart, I’d take him hunting for Easter eggs, just as I did his father.