The sun is shining in my dining room window. I’m watching the snow-melt drip off the roof above the window. The branches on the apple tree are also dripping as last night’s snow turns to liquid and drips down onto the snow below. The yard is blanketed in three feet of snow, and I’m sitting inside dreaming of the day (still a few months away) when I will look at my husband dreamily and say, “Honey, it’s time.”
He will shake the winter out of his bones, pull the shovel out of the back shed, and begin to dig up the soil to create a garden bed.
Together we will gather up the pile of bricks that somebody carelessly into the garden plot. We will dig out the slate rocks that got put in there too. The bricks will become the walls of a compost pile so I can create some garden gold. The slate will become rock pathways between our square foot garden blocks.
Two blocks this summer–four foot square. Two more blocks next summer. We’ll keep adding blocks, two at a time, until we have enough. As we add more blocks, hopefully we will be able to stay supplied in a variety of fresh vegetables all summer and even put a winter’s worth of homegrown produce up during canning season.
I’m dreaming of spring and our apple, pear, cherry, and plums trees being covered in blossoms, bees buzzing lazily about, the air heavy with the scent of lilacs. Summer trees heavy laden with ripe fruit. Cookouts and camping. Swimming and swinging at the park. I’m dreaming of long sunny days and stargazing at night. Firecrackers on Fourth of July.
I’m dreaming of summer, but today I’ll content myself with a warm patch of sunshine on my living room floor.
