Amy in the Garden

I wonder about the juxtaposition of seasons and desire.  In the winter dark, when my hands are cold and it hurts to bend down, I sit in a chair and plan ferocious physical activity.  I consider plants, and make lists, planning and plotting my garden for the  year.  I consider staggered planting and choose varieties that mature at different times, ensuring constant activity.  I cannot wait for the cold to end, so that I may begin.

The sun comes closer and the earth begins to warm.  I plant a very few seeds outdoors — only the ones that are suited for the cold nights and barely-warm days.  I fill my house with cubes of soil, each planted with a beautiful seed, and I sit in a chair and watch for the seedlings to arch up.  My hands are still cold.

Then summer comes, too quickly as it always seems to do these days.  (What happened to the breeziness of several weeks of low ’70’s?  For the past several years, I can only remember a few days of ’70 degrees and then a record-breaking heat that catches everyone by surprise.  Again.)

And now, both the thermometer and the calendar say it is summer.  The garden agrees, with plants, weeds, and fruit leaping at me, demanding that I attend to them or stand out of the way.  I realize that if I don’t spend at least an hour a day in the garden (best before work, when the temperatures are low and my desire high), the summer and the garden will go on without me.

The desire is hot in me to harvest, eat, pickle, can, and share the bounty, but the crushing heat saps my resolve.  How can I move, in triple-digit temperatures, despite the clamor?  Once again, the season and I are out of sync.  I may fail when I am most needed.

Perhaps I have discovered the true purpose of a summer morning — before the sun makes you squint, when the birds are calling but not sassing, when the dog is still upright and hot coffee is still possible.  A summer morning is not the time to sit in a chair and think.  It may be my time to garden in the Big Grow, and not get left behind.

I will test this tomorrow morning.  I will tell you how I do!