Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Seedling

It's February. I've already done all my searching through the seed catalogs. I know what plants are going in the ground. I've made my garden plans. Everything is now in that horrid holding pattern that is Winter. It's too early to start my seedlings inside, because they'll quickly become too leggy and won't last until it's warm enough to put them out. I have to wait until mid-March in my area (!!) and it's really tough. I want to get my hands dirty NOW, and feel the living soil on my hands. I want to smell that scent that tells me spring is right around the corner. But that is not what February is about.

This is a time of hibernation. It's a time for quiet introspection. It's a time for getting a bit extra sleep, when possible, and doing quieter activities. I find myself wanting to pull out my cross stitch, but I also find I'm never getting around to it.

I admit, as February begins, I am feeling like I am the tippy top of a roller coaster. The rest of the year stretches out in a long, steep decline and I want to be over the hump already! I want my plants in the dirt. I want my raised beds built. I want the yard cleaned up and the kids' swingset built. I want my herbs flourishing in the herb bed so that I don't have to use the dried stuff anymore. I want to ditch the long johns and sweaters, the mess of hauling wood into the house and ash out of it, and store bought vegetables. I long for the taste of a REAL tomato!

It does feel like this year is going to be both a fast one and a fun one. There is a lot of work to do, and I hope that I have the ability to get myself up and moving to get it done. I want to throw the windows open here, and I am hoping for a warmish day so I can do just that. The air in a house gets stale over the winter, and nothing beats the way a house smells after opening the windows the first time in the spring. It's as if seedlings spring up inside your heart and soul.

I did allow myself a tiny consolation for hurrying spring along. In my kitchen window, atop the lower window of a split frame, there are four jars with eight trios of seeds in them. These are my test seeds, to see if germination will occur. So far, my cucumbers, peas, lettuce, and a few others have sent out shoots and roots, questing for the dirt which they (unfortunately) won't find. I'm still waiting on the beans, delicata squash, and green peppers, but my hopes are high. If they all germinate, I'll be thrilled! Still, there's something joyous about peeking up at the jars and seeing my pretty peas looking rather like the picture to the right.

I need to let my soul have the quiet time it needs, to regenerate and to regain energy. When I rest my spiritual side, allow it to dream a bit and stop working so hard, I give myself energy for the long summer ahead. Everyone needs down time, after all, and nature provides a natural time for it each year. We need to respect that demand from our bodies, souls, and minds. The rest is like the dark, enveloping soil that holds the seed prior to it becoming a seedling. We need to let winter grip us in a firm grasp, keep us safe and warm and cuddled tight, until it's warm enough for us to spring out of our blankets and sweaters into the sunny, bright spring air.
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