the blue muse

The weather has been so glorious it’s almost scary. But I am trying to soak up the goodness without waiting for the other shoe to drop. My garden has literally burst into growth, daffodil shoots that weren’t there two days ago are now four inches tall. The next two days are supposed to be record-breaking in temperature, if this keeps up, there will be golden blooms by Friday.

My hopes to rework the bones of much of my garden in early Spring, before things really started growing, have already been thwarted. But that’s the way it is with gardening, the best laid plans…

You work with what you have, till the soil that you’re given, add in more of the good stuff, pull out all the weeds that are bad. You edit, constantly, lest things revert back to their natural state. In essence, to be a gardener, you must battle Mother Nature, which sounds counterintuitive, but it’s true. She already has her own plans for this little plot of land, plans set out long before I showed up with my rake and spade.

And so, we learn to work together, I compromise here, she cuts me a little slack there. She refuses to let me grow blue poppies, but if I am lucky, my passion flower will blossom. She lets me know when I am beating my head against the brick wall of her conscience, I smile when she allows an extra rose to burst into bloom in November.

Today there will be time carved out of a full-schedule to soak up the sun, to enjoy the kind of weather we shouldn’t be seeing here until May.

Because tomorrow there could be snow again.

You just never, ever know.

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