Hope Springs Eternal

I don’t know about you, but as I’ve read about the weather in many other parts of the country this winter and, worse, seen videos of it on TV, I am increasingly delighted to live here on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington. Sure, it’s been chilly. Ok, darned cold from time to time. We even had a morning with snow on the ground—didn’t last the full day. All in all, it’s been an easily survivable winter.

Even so, I can’t help it that my heart skips a beat when I see signs of spring. No, I don’t mean the workbook my accountant sends me every January so I can gather information for my taxes and get him that information in a timely manner this spring so that he can complete the job and my taxes are mailed on time. As helpful as it is, that’s not what gives me the same little thrill I feel when I first see pink blossoms on cherry trees around town.

That sight makes me slow down a bit and smile. Good times are ahead. Spring is coming.

Those cherry blossoms are followed by the green leaves of tulips and daffodils pushing up through the earth almost whispering the coming appearance of those sensationally beautiful flowers. Eventually, my impatience is satisfied when I see the first cheerfully yellow daffodil lift its head toward the sun and, as if smiling, bloom. I can be a terrible romantic. When I see that brave daffodil, I imagine trumpets heralding the coming of spring and the end of the dreary, dismal days of winter.

To me, that daffodil gives me tremendous hope that the ordeal of winter will soon be completely behind me. No more dark morning, no more days when I turn back to the house to put on yet another coat because it’s colder than I imagined outdoors, no more mornings when one cup of coffee simply doesn’t do the trick.

You already know, dear reader, that I’m an optimist. I consider seriously the biblical admonition to “take every thought captive” and I eject the thoughts that the dark, dismal winter days try to plant in my brain. Instead, I welcome with enthusiasm the joy and expectations of good things awaiting as promised by that clump of cherry blossoms. I remain undaunted during the necessary spring showers that help my garden of hope flourish.

On the other hand (didn’t you know this was coming?), I learned a long time ago that weather-casters were sent to the Northwest to learn humility. How often have you been met with a spring shower on a day when they promised sunshine? Right. That’s my point.

So said weather-casters are predicting the low 60’s for our temperature this weekend. Just now I heard a weather lady flirt with the number 70. She almost whispered it as if to say it out loud would curse it.  Let me assure you, I haven’t put my winter coat, my mittens, or my warm hat away yet. I will wait until the rhodies are in full bloom before that happens. And even then, those warm clothes remain easily accessible in the downstairs closet.

All that skepticism can’t overwhelm the wonder and promise of spring. There’s joy that we made it through what was actually a fairly light winter this year and hope that our spring will be warm enough to get our gardens started.

For me, the dominant theme is hope. We made it. What good things await? What adventures lay ahead? What can we grow in our gardens this year? How will we grow ourselves?

Excuse me. I need another cup of coffee. My imagination is fueled by more than caffeine. It’s hope that takes me into wonderful places that will appear in my garden. Will there be setbacks? Just as sure as there will be weeds in the garden, but you and I both know what happens to those weeds. Ignored, they take over. Attacked, they perish. Just writing that, I can feel the stiffness that will creep into my legs and back after a session of weeding.

By the way, never ever plant grape hyacinth—they are pretty when they flower but they look like weeds before and after the blooming, then they go propagate with abandon so that they recur abundantly the following spring no matter how much effort you put in or how stiff you got. All the same, your hard work rewards you even if it’s just with plain digging in your garden.

Go forth and have a wonderful spring! Plan your garden with hope. Enjoy.