By Freya Secrest
The robins have arrived in my northern garden. I walked out the door and saw five of those harbingers of spring on my lawn. For a few weeks I have been noticing the chipmunks scampering around, released from their winter hibernation, the squirrels gathering materials for their nests and general background bird song increasing, but seeing the robins was like a neon sign proclaiming “spring is here.”
I looked at my gardens more closely. The bulbs I planted last season are now visible in the flower beds, small green tips soon to be identified. Is that a daffodil or an allium planted there? I recognize the winter aconite with its yellow flowers. A snowdrop here and there. Eagerly I peek under the mulched leaves; what else did I plant last fall?
The spring garden’s appearance is so anticipated because after the quiet snow of winter, I am impatient with the back and forth temperatures of Michigan waking from its wintertime sleep. This energy in this time of the year builds a sense of emergent expectation in me. If I am not careful, it is like a wave that sweeps me away from the patient tending that is needed to encourage roots to wiggle deeply before exposing leaves to the sun. I loosen the leaf mulch and leave it in place. I send out my welcome and settle back to wait for the timing that the garden and animals know better than I.
So, what is there for me to do in this time? I find it is important to savor this moment, to sit back and re-connect myself to what I planted in the deep stillness of last year. What was I dreaming and how to now tend to those sturdily emerging possibilities, especially now in the up and down transitions of temperature, sun and clouds, tempest and gentle breeze that characterizes the shift from winter to spring?
Most of my natural envisioning around my garden is about its blooming phase, with summer’s deep greens, bright colors and expansive growth. Stepping back, I look to establish more of a connection to this formative spring garden phase, to feel into the seed and the deep richness of soil that fosters that summer radiance. I remind myself not to get too far ahead, to bring my imagination into the present moment and feel into the young, intense, bright green of new growth. I find myself admiring and honoring the small nubs of potential that are the forerunners of summer’s expansion. What power is there! The seed’s energy is revealed, but has not yet unfurled its potential. The buds are potent with possibilities, like a wave, gently but relentlessly swelling to its crest.
Both in my garden and in my life, it is valuable to stay present and attentive to the essential nature of what I would harvest this year. How exactly it will unfold is unknown to me, like the timing of spring’s growth, it is not mine to direct. But I can stay attentive to what I want to foster and, in that way become a part of the swelling energy of life in partnership with the growth.
In my garden I would learn more about the structure of branch and leaf that frame the bright color of a flower. I want to highlight the shrubs that create the backdrop of the garden and bridge between tall tree and delicate flower. Admitting to how much I favor the blossom, I would learn more about shape and texture of the leaf and how to artfully play with relationships of structure and form.
Similarly, in my life’s garden this year, I want to find more ways to feature joy by creating the space for appreciation to naturalize and spread through my relationships in the world. There are small shoots poking up, and I am committed to attentively encourage them to grow. Appreciation creates spaciousness, so even in the uncertainties of spring and the tempest of immediate social events the diverse part of my community and life experiences can weave together in ways that serve a more coherent wholeness.
I am challenged this spring to highlight bright beauty through weaving an ordinary but elegant frame of appreciation. I am challenged to stay present to and honor each phase of the garden. I am invited to slow down and listen, to join in the swell of spring’s life power and to partner in earth’s transformation.