Spring Still Slumbers

The heart of Winter in Western North Carolina is January, February, and even March. It's a shorter winter than up north, but still, "Can't plant safely until after Mother's Day."  Many of my avid gardener friends, all over the country, are drooling over seed catalogs already. But I'm still cooking up the veggies I canned and froze from last year's community gardening adventure and I'll be planting seedlings for the most part, not seeds. I am thinking about Spring, though, and nature is sending little signals, lest I rest content in hibernation or start to doubt that warmer days will come.

Trust Your Mother

There are daffodil shoots almost three inches high and the tendrils of the willow trees along the French Broad River are looking especially golden, so I know they're gathering strength. The first tiny redness appeared on my lower back over the weekend, a familiar response my skin makes to the activity of the trees, before it can ever be reported at pollen.com. Another two or three weeks and I'm sure to feel the impact of classic "Spring Fever" - subtly swollen sinuses, mild nausea, a bit of fatigue and perhaps a headache. I love, love, love the trees and can't understand why they take their exuberance for renewal out on me. But I'll endure. 

We have had a mild time of it so far. A few frigid days, always followed by one or two milder days. A pleasant rotation of sun and overcast skies, with sufficient rain to keep the water falls and creeks delightful, and no appreciable snow. Winter greens, herbs, and onions are doing fine in containers on our deck, so who am I to complain. Each day is a new treat.

Spring still slumbers, as we anxiously pace the lengthening days.