I stepped outside this morning expecting nothing from the garden, only to see what was going on out here. I found mud, chilly temperatures, and some surprises. Everything looked suspiciously productive. Suspicious because I still don’t consider myself a competent gardener. It’s almost like the plants had a meeting without me and decided to get their act together. Good for them. I have no idea how to do that.
So I grabbed my camera, took a slow wander, and let the garden show off a little. So, now I’ll give you all a look as well.
I have never grown fava beans before. They have sprouted with the kind of dramatic flair usually reserved for stage actors and toddlers. The seed has sprouted and is posing like it knows it’s the star of today’s show. Honestly, if seedlings could demand royalties, this one would. I can’t wait to eat them!
A few steps over, the raised beds are waking up. Drip lines are weaving through green growth, tiny leaves are pushing up like they’re late for something, and the greenhouse in the background is pretending that it wasn’t a wind tunnel all winter. At one point, I had to collect a couple of the panels from the neighbors’ yards after a windstorm. The greenhouse and I have been through things.
And then there’s the greenhouse nursery where hope and impatience live side-by-side. I’m happy to say that most of the seedlings are thriving while some are still thinking about it. I don’t judge. We all wake up at our own pace. I happen to need coffee and some of us require snacks.
On a different note, I found one of the gnomes leaning suspiciously close to the heater. I’m not saying he did anything, but the last time he looked that guilty, I ended up with a mysteriously relocated trowel and a row of radishes planted in the shape of a question mark. I’ve moved him to the bird bath where he can reflect on his choices.
It’s the magic part of the garden year, where nothing is perfect but everything is possible. The soil is soft, the air smells like rain, and every corner has something quietly happening and the groundhog is eating your dandelions.
