In the heart of winter, when the Texas panhandle chill usually seeps deep into the bones, the cruel, bitter wind bites into your skin, and the gardens lie dormant, an extraordinary thing happened. The mercury climbed and the air buzzed with an almost spring-like warmth, a balmy almost 70 degrees in the dead of January. It was a day that defied the norms, a gift amidst the frosty season.
With the sun high and the ground unexpectedly yielding, I seized the opportunity to awaken my garden from its winter slumber. The flower bed, a canvas of potential in front of my new house, beckoned for attention, and I was all too eager to oblige.
Tilling the earth, I felt the stirrings of life beneath the surface, a promise of the blooms to come. The soil turned easily, almost gratefully, as if it too yearned for the caress of warmer days. This was the beginning of preparation, a foundational step for the vibrant spring I envision. I couldn’t resist. Grounding is a common practice with the Cherokees, and a practice I love…so of course I shed the shoes and worked the soil barefooted. (Please do not do as I do, it is really not smart to use power tools with no shoes on!!! I am a nurse, I don’t want to have to take care of you after you cut off your toes, I want to meet you in the garden center!!) The soil smelled fabulous and felt deliciously cool and fresh under my toes.
In the spirit of nurturing and renewal, I plan to enrich the soil with direct compost, a feast for the earth and the future residents of this bed—the flowers that will soon paint a mosaic of color and life. One more session with the tiller will follow before the seeds kiss the soil, ensuring a bed that’s as ready as it can be for the new life to thrive. A visit to the bait shop is in store as well, to procure some red wiggler worms! Bait worms are perfect for the garden and composting!!!
On this scrumptious day, the unexpected warmth was a reminder that nature holds surprises, gentle nudges to remind us to always be ready for growth and change. And as I stood back, hands (and toes) dirtied from my labor, I couldn’t help but feel a kinship with the earth—a shared readiness for rebirth and beauty. Gardening is a privilege, I hope it’s one that I always get to enjoy.
Stay tuned for updates as I direct compost and till once more, setting the stage for a spring that, even in January’s embrace, feels just within reach.
Until our next adventure, keep wandering and wondering!! 🌟