A weekend of dirty hands.

5.27.2008

I am a gardener. Maybe it's having the name Mary and all the "Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does you garden grow?" I heard as a kid. I remember the first set of seeds I planted as an adult. It was a mixed flower envelope and the back said to "scratch the top of the soil and mix in seeds". Well, the spot I had chosen was so hard packed that scratching the top of the soil was like scraping a piece of pine wood. I dutifully added the seeds, watered and waited, nothing grew in that patch but my hands had touched the soil, planted the seeds and waited in anticipation and the only thing that bloomed was my need to feel the dirt on my hands. My gardening skills have grown since then but I always think back to that first planting as the time when I became a gardener.



Since that time I have always had some type of garden. Pots of houseplants, small beds of annuals and herb gardens have been planted and tended to. This year the bird and butterfly garden was added to and veggie beds prepared. I often find myself standing staring at my plants. My husband may think that I am admiring their blooms or looking for bugs but, really I'm dreaming. With each handful of dirt and seed or seedling there is a bit of a dream.
I stand gazing at the small leaves of coneflowers poking through the mulch but what I see is a clump of purple flowers calling to butterflies and later their seeds a snack for the goldfinches. Green bean seeds are carefully sown, their tender shoots wound up the bamboo pole. With each new leaf I wait and dream of Annie and Maddie heading out to the garden to search for beans, pull them off and eat them raw right there in the garden. As I stand there, small tomato plants grow to towers dripping with the sweet red fruit destined for salads, salsas and sauces. To be a gardener one must have faith, patience and vision.



When I was pregnant with Annie the doctor told me my due date. May 29Th, one of my first thoughts was Oh, that's planting season. The digging of the dirt, the planning and planting is my favorite part of gardening. Each spring there is a fresh start filled with hope, grand plans and anticipation. I am a gardener and the soil calls to me. This weekend I brought the whole family along and we all dug our hands in the dirt, planted a few seeds and dreamed of the summer to come.