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.