MEMORIES of Margaret in the Garden

When one green shoot suddenly appeared in my garden, I took a photo of it, posted it on social media.

I didn’t get a huge response, but readers did immediately respond. SPRING is a meaningful time for many of us, the air is warmer, rains are welcome, and we find ourselves being called OUTSIDE. Surely, many of you live in climates where SRING means little. And that is lovely. When we were in California recently, we played croquet, took walks and flew kites. AWESOME.

But now we are home in Illinois, and the arrival of SPRING is always very welcome. The sun is soft, the air is warm, and we are once again called outside. The feeling of lightness, of eagerness to watch green shoots pierce the ground is part of living in temperate climates.

It’s a call to nature, a call to breathing in the scents and sounds of SPRING. Children suddenly appear, shout out to one another. Adults are eager to walk the dog, extend that walking time….share a smile when approaching anyone out for the spring stroll. And yes, the arrival of  spring and warm weather is more meaningful to people who live in temperate climates. Spring is a gift of change, of adventure and the longing to be outside. But it is also a reminder of work that needs to be done: wow my windows need to be washed, my garden planted, my bedding changed…time to put away those heavy quilts. A busy time, but also a welcome time….because humans thrive on change, on awakening to time in the garden.

Elizabeth Kelsey, who moved from Florida to New Hampshire, wrote in her piece in TIME: I can trust that longer, lighter days will inevitably return. I can navigate change.” Which is always good thing for all of us to learn.

My Aunt Margaret was a true gardener. A writer and editor for a publishing company, I believe she was never happier when she could “work in the garden.” Spring meant clearing away winter debris, waiting to see what perennials had made it through another Chicago winter. Then she would  make several trips to the Singler Florist. I imagine that some days she walked there, the shop being a block away. I also imagine there were cheerful conversations with Bob or his mother…they not only being avid gardeners but also Margaret’s cousins. They admired her garden, were eager to show her a new rose or a perennial shrub that might fill an empty space near the western end of the garden.

And when I, as a child, found a small plot of soil along our driveway and mentioned it to Margaret, she was eager to help me choose some annuals that might encourage me to also become a gardener. I never earned the gravitas that Margaret did. But in a few weeks, when I am out in the garden…weeding, raking and getting ready to plant, I will think of her, how happy she alway was, down on her knees, planting…which I have come to realize is something very simple and basic: in our family, we all just LOVE digging in the dirt.