Spring is well and truly here. We brought in our first asparagus this week, the hyacinth, tulips, forget-me-nots, and daffodils are blooming, and the swiss chard and broccoli are growing happily. I can cut chives for my scrambled eggs and have asparagus from the garden for dinner.
There’s a sense that you are witnessing a miracle when the asparagus appears. Food that emerges, year after year, and can be snapped off and popped into your mouth. There’s little else in life that is so easy and delicious. And the way they push through the ground, one spear at a time, is truly a visual marvel. My first reaction when I saw asparagus growing out of the ground was: “really? I can eat that?”
This year, though, I found myself reflecting on how planning, patience, and a small amount of relaxed acceptance really paid off. Planning the garden, planting, and letting go of expectations resulted in a mellow kind of waiting that ended with spring colors appearing all around. It could have gone differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have had so many blooms or the deer might have eaten every tulip the day they bloomed. Happily, though, the gardens are beautiful.
Not everything has been so care free and delightful, though. I set out some borage one day and came back to … nothing. Thanks to the rabbits. Same thing with the bachelor’s buttons. So I’m thinking pots for peppermint because it’s invasive, and pots (elevated) for everything the rabbits like, too. Professional-speak words like “pivot” and “adapt” come to mind, but so does a picture of Bill Murray from Caddyshack. 🙂
As we wait for our second wave of spring flowers, like the bleeding hearts below, I’m still nursing basil and hot pepper seedlings, and watching the weather forecast for frost…
…and reflecting on how patience isn’t just one of those virtues people admire, it comes with rewards.