Getting ready to grow

I’m sorry. Were you talking to me about the weather? I’m afraid I just can’t concentrate on when or if winter will arrive and settle in. I don’t care about the ski trip you had to cancel or the expensive snowblower you bought because you anticipated another record-breaking snowfall. My mind is on other things. I’ve got a bad case of spring fever and I’m ready to move on. I’m over the winter that never quite made it. I’m already shopping for wine barrels (my favorite container for my tiny urban patio garden) and missing the earthy smell of good mulch. I’m looking around the backyard for the best location for my new composter. I’m picking up peat pots and seeds at the hardware store so I can get a head start on the tender seedlings I’ll transplant as soon as I’m able. I’m ready to put away the snow shovel and ice-melt I never used, pull on my battered Wellies and get outside to get my garden going. This time of year, in an ordinary frozen, wintery year, I would be staring out the window at the snow and daydreaming about sunny days and fresh herbs. I would be remembering last summer’s patio parties and tender grilled zuchinni and fresh-from-the-vine tomatoes on our salads. I would be longing for spring because it felt like it was never going to arrive. But this year, with primroses already on sale at the grocery store and green shoots peeking up out of the soil in the flower beds, I’m anxious to get my hands in the dirt. Oh, sure. If the summer turns out to be as hot as the winter was warm, I’ll regret my fickleness. I’ll be sorry we didn’t have a nice cold winter to make us appreciate the heat of July. I’ll worry about the reduced water and the danger of fires in the forest. I’ll fret over global warming and the environmental impact of generations of bad decisions and careless behavior. But right now, with the sun shining bright in what should be the darkest and grayest days of mid-winter, and the slightest hint of early greening in the landscape around me, I’m reckless with desire. And isn’t that always the truest symptom of a raging case of spring fever? Still, I’m prudent. I know there are still weeks and weeks left in a season that could turn on us at any moment. The shovel stays by the back door. The patio is still under wraps. The wine barrels and planters are empty and waiting. But, I’m feeling the pull of warm weather. And I’m ready to grow.