MARCH IN THE BLOOMERIE AT PATINA MEADOW

No matter how many times I watch winter turn to spring, I always feel caught off guard when the seasons begin to shift.

In winter, the earth sleeps, a washed-out world tucked beneath a cover of clouds. Then, slowly, it awakens. Even without a morning coffee, its energy is overwhelming, sending its inhabitants into a tizzy.

Daffodils burst forth with blooms showcasing the sun's golden rays, even on lingering gloomy days. Branches decorate themselves with delicate blooms.  And I head into the Bloomerie to heed the call to grow.

The traditional “March Madness” is not a cultural event I take part in, but I feel as though I participate in my own version in the garden. Though we are still over a month out from our last frost, there is much to do now to prepare for her arrival.

Every day until the end of the season will now begin the same way—in the greenhouse. Our citrus trees, which have been sheltering within the warmth of the enclosed space, greet me with their blooming buds and bright scent.

Over the past few weeks, we have been starting seeds for the season. I find it fantastical that within each of these tiny specks is the secret to growing fruits and flowers to sustain my family and yours in the months to come.

Outside the protection of the greenhouse, I am slowly but steadily beginning to awaken my slumbering Bloomerie beds. A few weeks ago, we covered many of them with silage tarps to choke out the growth of the cover crop I planted in late fall. When winter stalled the growing season, that cover crop helped protect my beds from the harsh elements.

But now, with the sweetness of spring on the horizon, I am uncovering them one by one and consulting my crop plan for what to plant. The first plants to go in were my strawberries, followed by sugar snap peas and carrots. Soon will come lettuce and onions before the summer crops can shine.

Although most of my beds were put to rest over winter, a few were planted with bulbs in the fall in preparation for this moment. While all above ground was slowed, beneath the soil, these plants were sending down roots, preparing for the day they could reach toward the sun. Now that it is beginning to shine for more time, my garlic, tulips, and daffodils are shooting up in preparation for an abundant harvest in the coming weeks.

In the orchard, life lessons are being learned as branches are pruned away to make room for new, healthy growth.

Each sprig is dotted with tiny buds, which swell more and more every day until one day they burst forth into a blossom before reaching their final form as fruit.  

Within myself, I can feel the creative energy of this season beginning to manifest. Some days, I find myself in a frenzy, my mind spinning with ideas to fill the extra hours of sunlight that now bless us. If my hands aren’t covered with dirt, they are covered in clay as I attempt to channel some of that spirit into vessels to hold.

I try to remind myself not to forget the lessons of winter, knowing that if I do, I will burn out before the summer sun can. So, as I make my way from task to task like a honeybee fluttering to and fro the new spring flowers, I try to remember to create moments of stillness - to find time to stand with my feet firmly planted, like a plant with its roots sent down deep. If I allow myself these moments of grounding, I will bloom beautifully, too.

What are you doing in the garden this month? I would love to hear all about it in the comments!

Love,

Leila