It happens every year about this time . . . my craving for spring. Even though I know that spring is still a long (long) way off here in Michigan, that winter hasn't relinquished its hold yet, that snow is still falling . . . this craving just seeps in. Slowly, at first. But deeper and deeper. Until, suddenly, it's a full-on longing.
I try to be Smart and Good Natured about it. I tell myself all the things that northerners tell themselves - and each other.
I like living where there are 4 distinct seasons, I say.
The days are getting longer, I agree.
Isn't the snow pretty? I insist.
I work at being a Good Sport when my southern friends start showing photos of cherry blossoms and other outdoor blooming plants . . . (in freakin' February). I always curb my first inclination (to yell "shut the f*%# up"), opting to take a deep breath and reframe my thoughts in more hopeful, optimistic, and forward thinking ways.
And it'll be fine.
It always is.
I get cabin-fever-y and garden-dreamy and up-north-crave-y about this time every year.
And I always get by.
(Truthfully. . . I wouldn't want to live anywhere else!)
This morning, I decided to see if I could find any signs of spring in my garden. Just, y'know. . . to build my spirits on this eve of March. I know it's really too early. Quite premature. I KNOW. But I did it anyway.
And . . . I just came back with a big old nuthin. Disappointed.
(Because Thursday . . . here are three big-old-nuthin examples for you.)
1 - My earliest blooms (hellebores) are still buried in snow.
2 - My garden bench is still very much closed for the season.
3 - Garden Buddha is still sitting sentry over a frozen pond.
I'm sure I'll see signs of spring soon. . .