Spring
has finally arrived in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. Blooming hyacinths
and a few adventurous daffodils greeted us this morning! The weatherman
promised a day of sun and rising temperatures.
Finally! Signs of life after a long, bitter cold, snowy winter!
I
understood it was now time to tend my plants. My love of gardening came to me
in my mid 40s. Before that time, I fancied myself an urbanite and avoided any
activities that caused me to perspire, commune with dirt or damage my
manicure. But then I made the conscious
decision to change my attitude and approach to life because what I’d been doing
hadn’t really worked for me. So, I moved to the country and embraced the
challenges, physical labor, exhilaration, joys and therapeutic benefits of
landscaping and gardening in a hardscrabble environment.
Digging
in the soil, planting, transplanting, cultivating, nurturing, learning from
misguided plant choices, researching, weeding and celebrating the beauty of
nature fills my heart and soul with an abundance of joy, contentment, wonder,
and peace. Gardening grounds me, keeps me cognizant of the cycle of life, and
fills me with the certainty that a higher power exists. Nothing beats the therapy of digging in the
dirt, amending the soil, foiling the pests, and seeing the results of my
labors. And the pain that I feel at the end of the day is a good ache.
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