Wednesday, February 13, 2008

A Change of Mood

“The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree,

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.”

- Robert Frost “Dust of Snow” 1923

Keep an eye on the little things. The freesia growing in the rocks by the old pond are already in bud. Days are getting longer, and hange is in the air. There may be more snow, ice, rain for some gardeners. But, regardless of our climate, something is happening beneath our feet. I can feel it when I stroll through the back yard. Neglected for months, things look scruffy – like your old boyfriend when he needed a haircut. I can still see the potential, but there’s work to be done.

So, I’m getting ready to take on the challenges again. The first days and weeks in the Spring are taken up with cleaning up, digging out, plotting and planning. The seed packets wait patiently in their cool dry box on the porch. But it’s not yet time.

Meanwhile, I wait inside, trying to prepare for the season of hard work. I’m flabby and out of shape. Just trotting out and back to dump kitchen waste and turn the compost, I feel slow and sluggish – my rueful mood darkened by the short trip through the neglected yard.

I'm feeling sluggish and lethargic, but the garden is beginning to come our of hibernation.

Although I don’t have snow, or hemlock trees, or crows trespassing in my yard, I return to the house refreshed by the crisp cool air, my mood improved and my heart softened. I saw my first hyacinth today, shyly appearing in an unexpected place. Did I plant you there?


Shady Gardener said...

Oh! What a beautiful sight! We have weeks to go, until warm weather appears and stays. But, when it arrives, won't we have a great appreciation? ;-)

greeny said...

Hi, Anne.
I wanted to tell you I added your blog to my blogroll. Hope you don't mind.
Have a Happy Valentine's Day.

kate said...

Happy Valentine's Day to you,

It's so easy to overlook some of the little things ... like my houseplants that are perking up. It is subtle but apparent when I look.

While reading your post, I got to thinking that maybe having my garden under big piles of snow isn't so bad. At least I can't see all that needs to be done underneath. All this sitting around hasn't done much for my physique either ...

I have an email almost ready to send you! I ate way too much chocolate today since I didn't get any flowers. How about you?

Lisa at Greenbow said...

WS you sound like a bear coming out of hibernation. I love the poem. The analogy of old boy friend and potential..ha. Very interesting.

Crayons said...

Thanks for this post. I'd forgotten that poem by Frost. It always gives me the shivers. I feel something happening under my feet also -- even under the hip-deep snow. The might promise of unfurling green. Enjoy your discovery.