Garden dreams

At the moment my garden beds are under a layer of snow that is quickly turning to slush. The debris of last years plantings are hidden and the weeds that grow all year long have vanished from sight. February is coming on quickly and this is the month to clean out the garden to make way for new plantings in March.

I've got my work cut out for me. Two years of applying bandages instead of really getting in there and doing the surgery has taken its toll. I've got quite a bit of transplanting to do because a good portion of the garden now is shaded by a selection of lovely plants. Old world damask roses grow tall. Valerian has reseeded itself liberally throughout the garden. My three golden bloom butterfly bushes have become ten foot monsters. And don't even talk to me about Cecil Bruner climbing roses!

If I look on the bright side, everything loves to grow in this garden. The soil is rich, there is water - why would a weed or rose want to do anything but flourish? There are five apple trees, two cherry trees, a pear tree and an asian pear tree that put out bumper crops each year.

But I want space -with sunlight - for my vegetables to grow. My pumpkins and squash, peas and pole beans. Lettuce, spinach, carrots and beets. Luscious tomatoes. All of these vegetables are sitting on my shelf as small hard shelled power plants dreaming of putting forth those first green shoots.

I can see what I want the garden to look like and I wonder if I have the energy to accomplish all that I see that needs doing. I wonder what I can do without ending up on a heating pad and pain killers. Gardening is not a family hobby so delegating isn't an option. And yet, the vision remains as it always does. And like other years, I've just started in, slowly working my way through the gardens until I realized that what needed doing is done. Well, gardening work is never 'done' - the cycle continues into summer and then harvest and then putting the garden to bed for the winter. Oh boy. But I know what those sugar snap peas taste like right off the vine and what I do now will make this garden flourish all the more a few months down the road.

I'd better pace myself.