Seeds of Spring

Spring has been playing peek-a-boo here in Iowa for several weeks - now we see it and now we don't. Yesterday morning we woke up to an inch of snow on the ground, which, thankfully, was all gone by end of day. But it was such a lovely way to say goodbye to winter. My first pepper seedlings are up - and they are already late, while most of the broccoli and cabbage seeds aren't even started. I pruned fruit trees and grapevines last weekend (also late)and the grapevines are bleeding under today's sunny warmth. But I seem to be marching right in step with Spring this year - a burst of spring-time activity then nothing more for the next week. Or perhaps there is another reason for my tardiness.

Since we've starting fall-planting winter and early spring crops in cold-frames, I don't get the early spring bug to get something in the ground as soon as it there is some chance of the poor things not freezing to death. We have bushels of scrumptiously tender lettuce, or at least we did until someone forgot to open the cold frames one sunny day last week and toasted a bunch of the leaves. There is also spinach that is 6 inches tall already and a lettucy mustard that is growing right out of the top of the cold frame and getting ready to send up a flowering stalk. All this green bounty before even first tip of an asparagus stalk is even thinking of tentatively peaking up out of the mulch. Everyone at work is saying how anxious they are for spring to start. But I feel sort of balanced here on the edge between late winter and early spring - torn between wanting spring to come and savoring the 'its-almost-here' feeling. Just so we are all on the same page - I am not talking about calendar spring - I am talking about the real thing signaled by the feel and smell of the air, the awakening of things green and fragrant and the strength and quality of the sunlight. While I long for it, I also want it to come slowly, because once it really gets going, it goes by so fast. I wish I could 'freeze frame' through spring so I could more thoroughly and deeply enjoy each phase - each blossom and each little leaf breaking bud - before moving to the next frame and the next round of flowers and leaves opening to the world. It all happens so fast and there is so little time to see it, much less fully enjoy each phase. One weekend walk and I can see the trees with a slight greenish hue that signals the opening buds and by next weekend, the trees are a wall of green. Each moment is perfect and beautiful and so fleeting, but the next moment is just as precious and its arrival distracts me from the loss of the previous one. Then suddenly its summer with all of its own vibrant beauty - but oh how I love the progression of spring and how I wish I could hang on and savor each bit of it. So I am content - balanced where I am in enjoyment of springs teasing appearance and dissapearance. But I sure wish I wasn't so far behind in my gardening work!