As spring awakens, I am motivated. The mild weather takes me outdoors where I can see the work to be done. I begin to fantasize about the plants and flowers I can grow. The peaches and plums in bloom bring hopes of tasty fruit and preserves to come. Raking, trimming and plotting ensue. There’s a sense of satisfaction when it is finally time to drive a shovel into the earth and turn the ground, and placing the first seeds or rhizomes of the season. This time, I planted foxglove, fern, caladiums, toad lilies and lily of the valley. Placed carefully in the soil with the hope of things to come. My vision is a lovely garden of color and texture in the shade.
This process inevitably turns my attention inward. I wonder how prepared the gardens of my mind and heart are. Are the weeds cleared to plant new seeds? Have I pruned the dead weight to give way for new growth? Is the ground ready to sustain new roots? If the answer is no to any of these, I must do the work. Pull the weeds, trim the dead wood, prepare the ground. Finally, I’ll plant seeds of hope, inspiration, and independence. My vision for these gardens is an inner sanctuary of peace where my creativity and love of the world around me can flow freely.