This time last week we were working in the warm April sun setting out lettuce plants.
The spring was moving right along, even a few weeks ahead of itself. Looking at the daffodils, tulips, and even the redbud buds, I kept wondering if all springs are this glorious, this vibrant, this alive.
On Saturday as I seeded peas, swiss chard and spinach, I was overcome by the mystery of it all. The living soil, the power of the seed. So much faith in that one seed. To germinate, and then to grow and then to feed us and even create new seeds for next year. Well, I think you can understand how awed I was.
This week, a whole new week. Lots of heavy wet snow, and lost power. Cows back in the barn. I have to keep reminding myself that it isn't March, but late April.
Yet, I am still awed by the mystery of it all. I picture all those lettuce plants under a cozy insulating blanket of snow. And know that as it melts and warms again, the green will be more vibrant, the colors more lush.Farmers call these late season snow storms ' poor (wo)men's' fertilizer. By this weekend, we'll be back at it. Setting out onions and shallots. And on it goes.