State of the Garden


I post not of the heaviness of my heart, nor of how I am trying to contribute to the persistence and resistance, which I trust are understood, but to notice that in my neighborhood, the tree branches are swelling with incipient budding. Spring still comes.

I was talking to my Dad earlier today. My parents live on Long Island, where they are in the middle of getting three to six inches of snow. He said that the weather forecasters indicated that they were just missing having a blizzard, and he was grateful they were not. For the same reason Long Island is not getting a blizzard, we are seeing sun instead of a couple of inches of snow. We actually needed the snow. Last week’s ice was the first precipitation in almost three weeks, and now, once again, a storm has shifted away from us. It is good to see the sun, but it would be better for the trees to get some rain or snow.
We get what we get and then we have to choose whether to be happy or sad about it. I am happy not to be shoveling. And the chard is starting to come back. Next week, with highs forecast in the 40s and 50s, I’ll be harvesting again.
I was sitting at the kitchen table editing a document and drinking hot tea, when I heard a beating of wings against the window. It was in the inside, not the outside. A cabbage butterfly. I do not know how it got inside or where it found a place to grow and open in the house, but here it is in the middle of winter. It soon gave up beating its wings against the window and found the orchids that were blooming and rested there. What a lovely surprise.