I love the spring. It represents such potential. It represents a new beginning. For us it begins with planning a garden and getting the soil ready. This year it also represents Eleanor. I thought it would be hard to see the flowers begin to bloom and have questions I would normally have asked Eleanor knocking around in my head. Those questions will either go unanswered, or I will find the answers some other way. What I wanted for Mother's day was to get the garden ready so my boy, in between school and cycling or scouting, borrowed a rototiller and helped me out.
I loved watching him work. He seems so happy and peaceful working the dirt. I am amazed at how much he already knows. He handled the rototiller with such grace.
My plan is to ready the garden and plant in stages. I used to love to go and get a van load of plants to put in the ground but I inevitably ran out of time and/or energy before they all went into the ground. This year it will be different. Yesterday we began. We amended the soil with PNK (fertilizers for veggies) and added cow compost. After turning it in Ethan lovingly planted the corn in even rows, 16 seeds by six rows. Near by we planted bush beans. Tonight we added soaker hoses and made a plan for what else will go in the ground some time soon.
Last night we were at a meeting at school. Ethan sat by the window enjoying the breeze. The sunset was beautiful. There were artistic clouds in the sky that were backlit with pink and orange. Segments of the clouds were brilliantly bright. In the depth of the cloud you could see the blue grey that signalled the coming darkness. A gentle breeze skipped through the open window to tousle Ethan's hair. A chorus of birds chattered and called to each other from the newly leafy trees. These are the trees that seemed to have bloomed overnight. We watch them, wanting to be conscious of how the leaves come on. Every year we do this. Then we are distracted. We turn away, turn back and the leaves are in their full glory. This is just one aspect that I love about my boy.
No comments:
Post a Comment