Digging in the Dirt

A beautiful sunrise yesterday ushered in a perfect day for digging in the dirt. In spite of the fact that winter's not over yet, I tilled and tidied and planted. It felt good to be back in the garden -- back where I belong.

I kept an eye on the black pussy willows and watched as, in the course of the day, they bloomed out pink and chartreuse (Nature isn't afraid of color) at the base of their black velvet catkins. By afternoon the catkins were a-hum with honey bees, their legs fat with yellow pollen.

The freshly tilled box beds are a magnet for the dogs -- "It's a bed, isn't it?" Maggie seems to say, in her most supercilious manner.

So to deter doggy wallowing, I lay fence posts across the newly planted Brussels sprouts, blanket freshly sown lettuce seed with row cover, set PVC hoops over the spinach and Chinese cabbage seeds.

At least the dogs keep the groundhogs away. A few days ago I was chatting with a neighbor who was out for a walk. We spoke of gardens and planting and he allowed as how he wasn't making a garden this year because in the past, as quick as his plants came up, the groundhogs would gobble the tender green sprouts.

"I told my wife," he said, "if the groundhogs want beans this year, by god, let them plant 'em!"