happy spring

Last year, we weren't here early enough in the spring to welcome the crocuses. Here they are today, basking in the sun, nestled in the juniper and myrtle.

garden dream

This winter has been unusually mild. The Bradford pear is budding, the crocuses and snowdrops have emerged around the neighborhood, and my two stalwart parsley plants never really died. (See picture below.) My subconscious has also been contemplating the aberrant weather; a few nights ago I dreamt I was surveying my vegetable garden. Last year’s plants had re-seeded themselves and emerged into bountiful bushes in the winter sun. There were dozens of ripe tomatoes, three varieties of basil, and rows of lettuces. How odd, I thought … but how delightful! In the morning, I peered out the window and the two little beds were still wearing their oak leaf covering.

the in between times

It’s been a while since my last post (say bloggers the world over), but as my writing lapsed I savored some of life’s precious in between times. After the squirrels devoured the pumpkin, and the robins pecked at all the winterberries, the rhythms of the church calendar ushered our little household into the season of Advent. We celebrated Christ’s incarnation—the fully divine becoming fully human, in humanity’s humblest form. We joyously anticipated the kingdom to come—another lighted city.

The “now and not yet” of Advent took on a rich (very human) meaning as we encountered the many in between moments of expecting our first baby. There was a time of waiting to see if “it” was really there; a time of waiting to share the news; a time of waiting for sickness to subside; a time of waiting to feel the slightest flutter or kick; and, a time of waiting to find out whether the little shadow was a son or a daughter. 

Our son (!) still has a lot of growing to do before we meet him face-to-face in early June. In the coming months, my hope is that this short season will be more than just a time of busyness. Yes, there are windows that need replacing, compost that needs turning, and books piled high next to the television. I just hope I can endeavor to pursue prayer with the same focus as decorating the nursery.

requisite mum and pumpkin

Last weekend we had a mini fall work-day, traveling to my favorite garden center for lawn fertilizer, pebbles, and -- of course -- a pumpkin and a mum. We augmented a sad little spot of gravel by the mailbox, at the threshold of the gate to the backyard:

The gold mum and large pumpkin stand sentinel. We're hoping the squirrels won't attack the pumpkin before Halloween, so we can carve it. If they do, we have a spare hidden in the shed.

Fall remains my favorite season, and our new home's faded perennials make the season more personal. I've followed the progress of the sedum, aster, coreopsis, and virginia creeper almost full circle. In the large bed next to the vegetable garden, the winterberry bushes have released their namesakes:

The garden, lawn, and hedges remain mostly green -- even as the maple trees across the street have lost most of their leaves.