Moving On

(Note: This was written 4/23/07 and appeared in a local publication several days later.)

The soil was cool in my hands as I sifted it. Saturday morning the air was still, crisp and clean, a relief from the ill winds that blew in earlier in the week.

The sky overhead seemed an endless blue ceiling leading to heaven.
My garden had waited long enough for me to bring some green to it. I mapped out my rows, then I struck at the dirt with my favorite hoe, the one that says “Real Tools for Kids” on the side.

As my tool thwacked against the ground, the songbirds heralded the day with a Hallelujah chorus. The dove cooed, a blue jay squawked, the robin with a nest in the spruce next to the garden fussed eloquently at me as I perspired.

The earth smelled sweet and the fragrance buoyed my spirits better than any man-made perfume.

The ancient garden rake let me down as its metal part separated from wood. I stared at it a while before trudging inside for duct tape.

Not the best fix, but it worked.

The raking and hoeing done, I dropped to my knees with cabbage and lettuce plants in hand. The tiny shoots pulled easily from their container, and I talked to each as I patted soil around the roots.
“You’ll like it out here, there’s a lot more sunshine,” I promised.

The lettuce, which had been in the garage since the cold snap, was looking especially peaked and in need of light.

Next I made rows of radishes, green beans, kale and cucumbers, then piled up the dirt for a couple of hills of squash. I pushed my luck with some of the vegetables, the ones with “plant after no chance of frost” on them. But I am gambling that the cold weather has passed and we’re on our way to summer.

Garden planted, I turned to the flower beds. My roses were growing heartily a few weeks ago, but now leaves, deadened by frost bite, dangled from branches. Snip. Snip. Some well-placed cuts and the plants looked perky again.

The sun blazed and a cool breeze dried my face, red with heat and effort, while I took a rest with a glass of water. Soil dotted my T-shirt and the knees of my jeans were caked with mud.

I said a quiet prayer as I thought about the long week. What a time of loss and sorrow, of bad omens and brave heroics those days had been. At the time it did not seem the week could end with a beautiful Saturday.

But it did. Mother Nature brought a day of comfort and renewal.

It was a moving on.