Living With Limitations: Rituals of Renewal
It’s That Time
Once more it is that time of the year for gardeners to begin the ritual of renewal. It may vary from one regional hardiness zone to another in timing, but we gardeners have internal clocks making calendars redundant. Just as a daffodil begins pushing up new growth in the dead of winter anticipating another spring, I am out there performing my own version, and neither of us can be held back by weather.
After a walk in my garden this past week I returned to the garage for my all powerful wand shaped like a dove-tailed weeder. Winter weeds were forming a carpet of fresh green in the paths and between where perennials were last year. Any spot without adequate mulch had these mats of trouble. In the last week of February I was able to wear a light jacket and, while kneeling on a pad, weave my wand beneath the root system of chickweed, crating satisfying piles. The sense of power, the feeling of grand poohbah of the garden, was intoxicating with its sense might; the lifting up over another (including the root system).
The second day was even warmer with almost no breeze and there was no way I could remain inside once I had touched my wand of power. I returned not once, but twice, during that day of spring preview. This time with a rake handle in my hand to clean the leaf litter and broken limbs of winter, clearing paths to work my rituals. Now all those unsightly debris are in organized piles blocking paths and waiting to be carried out to the compost pile. But, they are signs of my long-handled magic, and not so large they cannot be stepped over.
Real Magic Ritual
The real magic remain hidden until I begin my annual spring ritual of renewal; the close inspection of leaf litter. I am seeking the first appearance of native ephemerals shoving aside decaying leaves and revealing themselves. At this time it does require one to slow down and pay attention, bring back memories of last late winter. Just where did I see those fill-in-the-blanks last year? This week I see leaf after single leaf of mottled bronze-green and brown piercing the middle of leaves and pushing aside clumps of others. Trout Lilies (Erythronium americanum) are already two inches of rustic beauty with a waxed sheen. Upon the hill where there is more sunlight shinning upon the paths Spring Beauties (Claytonia virginica) show themselves as slender blades of dark beet-bronze soaking up available sun. Not to be outdone, European Spring Anemones (Anemone nemorosa) have miniature green noses that are now exposed after removing the chickweed. I also see clumps of leaves forming domes rising above the remaining blankets of fallen leaves, so I know there is more to come.
Once that ritual has begun, nothing, including the return to winter, can hold back the natives or the Grand Poohbah of Gardening.
Come Visit. I have a pair of gloves and rake handle customized just for you.