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Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.

~Henry David Thoreau

Dear Reader

Most of my days continue to be filled by the intimate act of seeding trays of future plants that will feed my body, mind, and soul. I fall in love with this act over and again each day. March’s slow and sporadic ramp-up to the spring chapter is complete. April, her task-driven sister, has arrived. In March, there is always still time. Time to sit, wonder, time to dream up experiments, and time to recalibrate from winter’s pace. April, moving to an amped up cadence, is less forgiving, only slowed by the weather, which is always at the helm.

With a backdrop of intermittent showers, the week has hosted a number of firsts. The chicks and I had our first full day in the garden. It was glorious for all, and we were equally distracted, hopping from one thing to the next. So thrilled to be back at it, I found it challenging to keep to set priorities. The chicks, on the other hand, ran themselves ragged without a plan or priority, having the time of their lives.

The next “balmy” morning, I braved the screen porch for my tea and writing ritual. A wool scarf and blanket were required, but the soundscape and fertile spring air made it all worthwhile. On my afternoon stroll around the orchard, I spotted the first crocus and celebrated the garlic's emergence. The blue heron has also returned, and from my front row seat, gazing out the kitchen window, I am an honored guest observer of her sunset feedings. Her performance brings a new reverence to the chore of chopping our evening salad.

Weather permitting, Sunday will be dedicated to the first garden planting. The onions, leeks, and scallions that I have babied since late February will be allocated to various beds. Some will keep company with lettuce, others with cabbage. The largest planting runs the 35-foot width of the garden and is tucked between a flower bed dedicated this year to calendula and chamomile, and another of shallots that were slipped in last fall. This first planting of cool-season crops is just the opening act for the peas, potatoes, greens, and brassicas to come.

After five weeks of my eyes focused on the basement propagation, I will soon have plants in the garden and in transition. I’ve arrived at what I’ve come to call the spring stretch, and it will continue until the last week of May. Stretching requires flexibility, and the act of being “stretched” can highlight exactly where I am rigid, physically and mentall. Who knew gardening could serve as shadow work? Oh, but it does. I’ve learned more about the ways in which I limit myself and those around me just by simply observing. Essential for our health and our growth, stretching is also a practice arena for self-compassion, a quality I’m always in need of cultivating.

You don’t have to be gardening to feel stretched. Different stages of relationships, whether it be with partners or children, can require a good stretch. Leaving behind old roles and reaching for new is a stretch. What about embracing your heart’s desire - that can also feel like a stretch. I believe that, during this particular period of this season, the invitation to push beyond our perceived boundaries is available to us all. What is stretching you or inviting you to stretch in your life? How is it presenting? Please share. Many thanks to those who shared their spring observations last week. I so value the effort you've made to connect.

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In closing, I’m brought back to Thoreau’s quote. Expecting wonders. That is quite a switch from what the media wants us to expect. I don’t know about you, but I believe I have a role in creating my reality, and so did Thoreau. You create what you expect, and if it’s wonders, they will arise. What a perfect time of year for this, as nature is offering them up daily. Stepping into her reality and out of the contrived noise saved Thoreau, and I believe it can save you, too.

Until next week,

The sun transits through Gates 21 & 51

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