Wednesday I got off work mid-day and came home, happy and content and dreaming of the sewing project I was planning on finishing. As I turned up my walk and passed the tall, raised bed at the corner, I let my finger trace the brown branches of my fragrant monster-shrub, bare but for the downy remains of empty seed pods. I had pruned the plants a lot last fall, but had not had the heart to rip them out completely and leave my beds stark naked all winter. So they had stayed. But today was so warm, and the sky so clear and bursting with joy – why not clear them away now and be part of the world’s awakening? And it wasn’t to early too plant just a few things, right?

So I did a little gardening yesterday, taking a more careful stock of what plants survived and what didn’t. There are little patches of rubbery German chamomile – stubbornly green. Some of my mint has kept it’s leaves, and there are even glimpses of its purple stem amidst the brown cascade. I thought this scruffy green stuff was nigella last October, but it hasn’t died or gotten taller since then.

 

Most likely it is just a weed, but for now it adds color so it gets to stay. My blueberry bushes seemed to have survived fine. The top hat is positively greenish, but the Jelly bean has some sinisterly gray branches which speak of neglectful, slap-dash gardeners. I can’t wait ’til they start putting on leaves so I know how well they fared.

Because I am impatient, I scattered arugala, parsley, borage, cress, and coriander seeds in my herb box. I realize it’s the first week of February and I have another month to go before it makes sense to start sowing these, but there was something in the air, as if spring was shouting from the distance “I’m coimng, I’m coming!”

Come quickly Spring, I have more seed packets waiting in the wings.