Snow Melt and Seed Packets

The snow seems far behind us - today the air smells like Spring!  Though I realize, theoretically, that there are still weeks of frosts and ice between me, sitting at my kitchen table on this February day, and the golden garden season, this sunshine is intoxicating and I am delighted by thoughts of green and growing things. It seems the little plants along my walk today share this preoccupation, for on this sunshiny day they are beginning to bloom...
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Planting trees in early spring / We make a place for birds to sing
In days to come.  How do we know? / They are singing there now.

- Wendell Berry

​Daffodils are budding! Violets bloom!  Sparks of brilliant yellow in the grass mark the center of hardy, rusty dandelion leaves (Taraxacum officinale). And my favorite, the creeping speedwell (Veronica filiformis), spreads its ethereal blue flowers over every walkway. These tiny blooms tumble in such happy abundance right under the feet of passersby, yet they never seem to be trampled or crushed, they just bloom on, contentedly.  

February brings the rain/ Thaws the frozen lake again...

 - Sara Coleridge

This week had been one of steady rain and occasional bursts of sun. The last lingering snow drifts melted at last in the rain and now the springtime scent of very damp earth wafts through every open window.  All in all, I cannot think of a more perfect day to discover in my mailbox this treat:
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Flower seeds!  And aren't those seed packets beautiful? Since moving to the Greenhouse, I have enjoyed finding walking paths around the town and you can imagine my excitement when, along a path by a creek, I discovered three large raised garden beds.  They are prettily situated along the sidewalk, but have been empty for many years. Long abandoned, these sunny, brick lined beds are filled with moss and weeds and debris... but just look at that potential!  So we've been mulling over how to plant these lovely flower beds in a way that would bring a bit of sunshine to the walkers and joggers and homes along this little path.  Then an email arrived from the beautiful Floret Flowers offering a generous bundle of flower seeds to community flower gardens... and the idea solidified.
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"Might I,” quavered Mary, “might I have a bit of earth? ... To plant seeds in—to make things grow—to see them come alive..."

 - The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

Look at this empty bit of earth, then close your eyes and imagine it exploding with poppies, clouds of feverfew, dainty, breezy love-in-a-mist, perhaps a trellis of sweet peas, or creeping moss rose softening the brick corners. Can you see it?  Over the next few weeks, we'll be working to reclaim these forgotten bits of earth and, with the delightful help of Floret's seeds, turn them into secret (or well-know!) gardens. 

​Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath...

Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun;
Young grass springs on the plain...

- Christina Rossetti

The first daffodil bloom opened in the cemetery today, its ruffled trumpet lifted towards the sun. I'm doing my best to rein in my springtime enthusiasm, but I fear it will and must run wild until another frost dampens it for a time.  Let's delight in this beamish light while it lingers. And let's rejoice in the promise of spring to come... as well as the rest of a few more wintery weeks.