Sincerest of gratitude to you, the reader, for coming back for more (I’m usually never short of things to say) so lets get into it. I spent last weekend in Boone North Carolina, attending a writing workshop hosted by Cheryl Strayed, at the Art Of Living Retreat Center. It was an easy drive, I took route 23 (the country music highway) straight south. I stepped over Virginia, Tennessee, and finally made it into North Carolina. What a truly wonderful drive it was, 55 miles an hour the whole way, light traffic, and mountains, the Blue Ridge Mountains. In spite of the rising temperatures I still enjoyed the views of snow caped ridge lines, up against the tender greens of budding weeping willows along the roadside, it was breathtaking. Spring, what we call the transition from winter to summer is short (always) but so sweet. My first bee sighting was on March 14, and the first mourning dove cry was heard on March 11, nature’s resurrection. Witnessing the bloom of an ornamental pear tree isn’t a feeling you can recall throughout the year, it can only be experienced in the moments you stand before it and take it all in.
My arugula has made a fierce return, it is unstoppable. These plants are my teachers, to endure the harshness of winter and to spite months of neglect they grow stronger every year. That is an experience we can all consider when our own environments toughen up. My seedlings are enjoying the comfort of the indoors for now, thriving brightly under lights and nestled together. Once again I’ve started too many seeds, so the decisions to choose the stronger looking plants might not be necessary if I can find homes for the extra seedlings over the next several weeks. So far I have thriving: 3 types of tomatoes, Wapsipinicon peach, rosella cherries, and a variety called “bread and salt.” Among the tomatoes are peppers, watermelon, cucumbers, broccoli, cabbage, spinach, and zucchini. Carrot and pea seeds will be sown later this week, and my grocery store is selling little onion bulbs by the scoopful. There is nothing better than pickling your own red onions at home. I chop them thinly, and add them to a jar filled mostly of white vinegar topped off with water; a pinch of sugar and a pinch of salt is all you need after that, but jars are for creativity and improvisation, concoctions. You can add mustard seeds, black peppercorns, any herb you like. When something is going into a jar in my house, it’s typically an experiment, and experiments often yield pleasant surprises.
March is a reminder to listen, as Julius Caesar should have done when warned “beware the ides of March.” The ides are a tricky time for us all, especially the birds, but when the daffodils appear my soul is once again nourished with the knowledge of nature’s consistency, it’s intelligence. The awareness of violets and dandelions to bloom on time instills in me that the only thing we can trust sometimes, is the natural world. I am soothed to remember each spring that just as the grass returns to it’s vibrant self, so can I when life gets hard to navigate. Thriving can missed without the dry and dull moments. I hope you are thriving in some way, and can take a moment to enjoy the sights and songs of a plump, red robin.
As always, write me sometime, because I do love to chat!
justicesarah67@yahoo.com
The Mint Patch Monologue 