The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature, To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body but the soul.  — Alfred Austin, British Poet Laureate, 1896

On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar. — Helen Hayes, American actress, first woman to win an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, and Tony Award (1900-1993)

Returning home from a short jaunt northward, the lushness of spring had popped out everywhere. Lawns being cut, filling the air with the aroma of green onions. A neighbor mentioned she did not like the fragrance at all, while I find the scent a sign of spring. Trees along the Natchez Trace had leafed out before our very eyes. At home, hosts from last year had pushed through the dirt and were now five inches high. Periwinkle was starting to spread and showed off a few blue blooms. Roses were leafing. A vine with one large purple clematis bloom was winding its way up the trellis by the perennial garden. All the green growing plants made me think maybe I’d try some kind of fruit, vegetable, herb, garden again. I have never been very good with food gardens, but I’m feeling lucky this year. I love the idea of feeding off our land.      

We hadn’t been home but a couple of days when I headed for the local garden center. I told Sam, “I’ve got to get there early. I doubt seriously if there will be an abundance of plants due to the pandemic years and the wintery freezes. Even during normal times plants go fast.”

I arrived feeling like a child at Disney World as I walked into the garden center’s greenhouse. There were rows and rows of flowers in a million colors. Ferns hung from the racks and mixed flowers too. I walked slowly, enjoying each grouping, sometimes reading the little card with common names and exotics too. Perhaps I’d add more flowers later but for now we are growing edibles. Oh, you could eat pansies and a few other flowers but don’t hold me to that.

Leaving the plants on the front porch I headed to the sunroom where I noticed a dozen gardening books. Particularly the “Square Foot” garden. It had seemed so easy. What it had not considered was living in the Prairie where deer, raccoons, possums, birds, armadillos, mice, tomato worms, parsley worms, white flies, and other critters would eat the plants or dig up the garden. We tried lights, radios, flimsy fences, aluminum foil and scarecrows even spraying plants with dish soap all to no avail.

This year the food plants will be planted some in pots, some inside the greenhouse’s raised beds, and some inside the perennial fence. A tentative start from the garden center purchase included Sweet 100 cherry tomatoes, grape tomatoes, sweet peppers, and the herbs, fernleaf dill and plain Italian parsley. This is just a start as soon as night temperatures are above 40 degrees.

While strolling through the rows and rows of flowers I connected with a friend I had not seen since spring of 2020. She said, “I’ve been coming here every day. It’s all so lovely. I’ll probably go home with those deep dark petunias today.”

Sunshine, growing things, flowers, herbs, friends, it’s all so good for the soul. 

Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].

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