I live for gardening and wall-building season. The winter months are busy with winter tasks, hauling wood, cleaning stoves and dispensing ashes, sharpening and caring for the tools of the trade, plowing the drives, preparing talks, maple-sugaring, and, then, torturous days of mind-numbing accounting chores,which segue into comfy evenings of BBC mini-series. That's winter. But it's the Spring, Summer and Fall seasons that enliven me. Gardens speak to the soul. They rejuvenate us, invigorate us, and remind us of the seasons of our lives. We grow older, not younger, and yet the fleeting years, which press on our mortality, improve our gardens with each fresh growing season, gaining girth, and strength and floriferousness as the seasons march on.
Color; after so many months of grey, lifts our spirits and draws us out into the garden to anticipate, peer, inspect, and wonder. This beauty, this freshness, this green....these colors, these scents....in 'the country', we live for this. And it's not just us, our feathered friends await the year for this as well.