A few day’s before winter’s astronomical departure, from my window I watched a sliver of its final moon fade into a brightening sky. Vocal accompaniment was provided by White-throated Sparrows, who have begun singing their minor-key mating calls robustly at day’s first and last light.
Soon, I reminded myself, the creek reflecting dawn’s light as it snakes along my eastern border will vanish, obscured by summer’s lush overgrowth. Soon, the tall canopy giants – Green Ash, Tulip Poplar, Red Maple, Water Oak, Loblolly Pine, Sweet Gum — that tower over the floodplain will don fresh foliage, merging high above into the roof of my green cathedral. As the Cheshire Cat smile of the moon faded, my gaze lingered on still-bare interweaving branches, starkly outlined, black against an eastern sky tinged with coral and peach.
Northern Cardinals, Carolina Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Carolina Wrens, myriad warblers – all competed to be heard by their One True Love. The Northern Mockingbird, who silently guarded a still-berry-laden holly for months, decided two days ago that it was time to make his presence known. Every visit to my vegetable garden is now serenaded by Mr. Mocker’s versatile repertoire.
Plants pushed deep into hibernation by winter’s prolonged grip are exploding into a procreative cloud of pollen and fragrance. Yellow, lavender, blue, ivory – everywhere color spotlights awakening green friends from their slumbers. Crimson flowers of Red Maples remind me that the giants in my landscape are also stirring.
The dance has begun. Transformation from winter’s contemplative landscape to spring’s ebullience gains momentum as the new moon of the vernal equinox makes its entrance. Love and hope are easier to find as the earth returns to spring. May all your spring dreams of beauty bring hope to your heart – and the most abundant, healthy gardens you’ve ever grown.
Happy Spring, y’all.
Piedmont Gardener 