Hope Tenders

 

January was bleak and quiet, a proper rest after months of holidays piling one 

on top of the next. A person can only eat so much sweet potato casserole*, even if 

the crumble topping is flawlessly crisp and thick.

February's unpredictable nature in this commonwealth may have you shoveling 

snow in your barn boots and sunbathing on the back porch in the same week. 

But as soon as January blows away from this Kentucky landscape, 

you'll find me peering under carpets of leaf mulch, looking for new garden growth. 

Already, the daffodils are inches above ground. 

Thyme plants (lemon and woolly) are greening up and nearly fragrant. 

Daylilies and irises, those workhorses, are 

pushing bold spikes of life above last year's litter.

And the star of February, the Lenten rose, is well on her way

 to making my heart content. Fragile pink blooms  

despite snow and freezing temps. It boggles the skeptical 

mind of this modern age. 

It's all about hope, isn't it? 

*

The sun will shine again, at its full strength.

* 

What we thought was long-gone might, against all odds, reappear. 

*

What seems dead really can become alive again. 

*

Gardeners are hope-tenders.

*Subscribe to my newsletter on Substack, and I'll send you my tried-and-true, much-requested sweet potato casserole recipe. The February installment of "Homeplaces" came out last week. Here's a link to take you there. Message me on Substack with your email address, and you'll have the recipe in time for Easter dinner.