Nothing says new beginnings like planting seeds. It is a symbolic act but also a very real, tangible one. A hope for the future, an investment in possibilities. A prayer for sunshine and rain. A promise of work to come.
Yesterday I made some real progress towards a successful garden this year. I finished fortifying the fence and gate at the front of our yard, so we will have more of a chance of growing healthy, whole plants instead of plants that look like this:
Here’s a peek at gate v. 2.0. The first version of my gate was busted open by a deer the second night it was in duty, so I took it all apart and redesigned it last week. Who knew that deer are smart enough to work a latch that is within reach (or strong enough to force it open)?
I spent all afternoon outside yesterday. Despite the chilly air it was quite pleasant – dry, calm and clear. The girls made fairy wands out of dry flower heads and challenged themselves by climbing up and down the near-vertical bank at the front of the yard. I stretched the fence out, bypassed the salmonberry bush with Tom’s help, and hammered it down securely. There are times when the reality of our now-rural life hits me harder than others. Hammering down that fence was definitely one of those times.
The air is different now. The scent of growing things is wafting in the breeze and that smell clings to the girls as they play outside. When they come back in I inhale it off them like sweet perfume. It’s fresh and alive, a mixture of the salty sea, green grass and puppy feet, and it reminds me of the way they smelled so delicious as babies. The light is beginning to peek into the windows of our little house tucked deep into the hillside. There are buds swelling on the trees, and some little shrubs even have tiny leaves poking out now. It’s not February anymore. It’s March, and we are putting down roots.