Wednesday, May 6, 2009
It's spring in the Pacific Northwest and every year just about this time when the tulips start to bloom, and the weather feels like just maybe it's time to start gardening, I go to the library to check out more gardening books than I can carry. Every year I do this. Every year in the garden in spring I feel like a beginner all over again. I guess in a way I am a beginner every year. Even though so much of my yard is full of perennials that emerge year after year, there's also so much space left untouched, my blank canvas to begin anew.
But this year I'm not alone. My daughter Lily, 1-year-old as of April 23rd 2009 is with me. I've hardly written a thing since she was born, and that's what I should be doing, writing. But the scent of an almost-in-bloom, old-fashioned rose bush, fragrant from the spring rain, lures me outside and whispers that I want to be gardening, not writing. Can I find the time, with Lily in tow, to do both, garden and write?
These days Lily is happiest when outside, eating rocks and digging, literally digging through the dirt. So that's what she and I shall do, dig through the dirt. We'll plant, nurture, weed and try to put something good back into the Earth. Hopefully we'll have a ball, and maybe it will even inspire me to write again.