Red Oak House Garden Notes no. 36

Winter is hanging on here, with a vengeance. We have about a foot of snow on the Red Oak House gardens. Although we are weary of winter, we do view this as critical moisture -- moisture that we were lacking last summer and fall.

This is what the first day of spring looked like out our windows.

Today, there is more snow in the forecast. Our social media feeds are filled with the whining of friends who are equally as weary of the winter weather. My aunt near Birmingham tells me her daffodils are blooming as are her cherry trees. I resort to buying daffodils at the store, a dose of sunshine at our table.

I happen to love the winter, the fallow time in which we both catch up on indoor projects. I know that the thaw will reveal much outdoor work and I'm not quite ready to tackle these chores.

A survey of the yard revealed that the dag-nabbit rabbits have wreaked havoc, severing my bittersweet vine at the ground level, a vine that had just taken hold. I cursed them and considered taking my husband's shotgun to them, but wisdom prevailed and I did not (to not mention that it is not legal within city limits, and I'm nothing if not a follower of laws).

On one warm day last week, we took Lizzie on a walk through the nearby coulee and found several waterfalls.

Today, Jim was busy setting up the indoor greenhouse racks and bringing his seedlings up from the basement.

"What in your life is calling you,
when all the noise is silenced,
the meetings adjourned,
the lists laid aside,
and the wild iris blooms by itself
in the dark forest,
what still pulls your soul?"    Rumi