Well now. It’s been some time since I stopped here last. I’ve been missing it. While I’ve been away, spring has really come to Vermont with all it’s false starts and teasing warmth and shivery promises. I’ve been trying to appreciate every minute I can. And each new bloom in the garden brings us one step closer to bare shoulders, summer evenings on the deck, veggies fresh from the garden, and the ease that warmth and light brings with it. I had a moment a week or so ago, standing on the deck as dark fell, thinking Oh, we used to sit out here, enjoying the night air and the view. Winter is long here.
We have a project going on in our kitchen that has kept us busy. I’ll tell you all about it soon, complete with pictures, but for now, suffice it to say that we haven’t been cooking much. We are in that in-between season where winter stews and root vegetables are losing their appeal, but spring greens and asparagus and mushrooms are still a few weeks away. And so meals have become a bit erratic… one evening pretending that it is warm enough to comfortably enjoy grilling burgers on the deck and the next simmering a big pot of beans and dousing them with olive oil and Parmesan.
We received 50 strawberry plants, three apple trees, three blueberry plants, a juneberry, and a purple heart plum in the mail today. Where we will plant this bounty is still a bit of a mystery, but the thrill of receiving this stuff in the mail is unparalleled by much else in my book.
These bareroot plants inevitably look spindly and unpromising. But there’s something about planting these adolescent, Charlie Brown trees that makes me much happier than a more mature tree does. It is a commitment to the future. A statement that we will be here and paying attention when they finally blossom and bear fruit. It is a commitment to a landscape and a place, and that adds a layer of meaning to the homely little trees that might not be immediately apparent.
The buds on the cherry tree in our front yard are full and ready to open any day. The whole world feels like it’s coming back to life. I’ve been searching our asparagus beds for signs of tender new spears, pulling the winter mulch away. They’re not ready yet, but that spinach that I showed you a month or more ago is bright green and just about ready to be picked. The strawberry plants in the garden are thinking about blossoms and it’s time to plant onions.
All this spring sweetness has been such a balm after the last several months. We’re ready… We’re here and waiting and paying attention and enjoying each new blossom. What does your spring look like?