Spring has arrived in the garden: we have had several meals of asparagus, and my daughter has picked the first ripe strawberry, a blessed event she's been waiting for since last spring. The chickens lay an egg nearly every day, which means we take deviled eggs to family gatherings and share eggs with others. The apple trees are blooming, as are the blueberries and dogwoods.
If I do say so myself, the garden is beautiful. The potatoes have sent up their beautiful green shoots, as yet unmolested by potato beetles. Spears of asparagus poke out of the mulch and stand tall among the peas. Broccoli and cabbage plants reach toward the sun, and little beet and carrot sprouts stand in rows.
I have nearly finished mulching the garden, and weeds are under control. The weather is still relatively cool, although it's warm for this time of year. The plants aren't showing the exuberant growth of summer where I can barely walk because of the tangled flurry of vines and leaves.
I am visiting my parents' house near Spartanburg, SC. Their garden, like mine, has suffered the effects of drought over the past few years, and the last time I visited their house, winter had browned the grass and made the plants dormant. Now, clouds of green grass in the pastures keeps the cows happy, and the spring flowers stand tall above their bed of mulch and appreciate the regular rain they have been getting. Azaleas are in bloom, and spring is here. I just try not to think too much about the hot, dry, weather that will be here soon.