Spring Snow

A late spring storm swirls wildly outdoors. The wind howls mercilessly, the sky looms gray overhead, the lawn—once brown and bare—lies under a shocking twelve inches of wet, sticky snow.

The outdoors shows little resemblance to the season called spring, despite the calendar's insistence that the middle of March rapidly draws near. Thanks to the arrival of this unexpected blizzard, my plans to work outdoors today have been unavoidably curtailed. While not unheard of in northern Wisconsin at this time of year, spring snow is not what I had in mind for today.

Of course there is work to be done indoors—as always. I could wash laundry or rearrange cupboards. I could attend to paperwork or catch up on emails. I could cook up some pasta salad or bake some cookies. The entire day stretches before me—a million directions in which I could easily and productively go—and yet here I sit at the kitchen table, watching the snow swirl outdoors.

Another strong gust of wind rattles the windows and an unhappy sparrow blows by, fighting madly to maintain his flight pattern.

Spring? What a joke.

Such is my state of mind when—happily for me!—my eyes land on the seed-starting kit that sits near my garden window. Of course! What better way to proceed with my yearning for spring than to create my own little bit of spring indoors?

In less time than it takes to tell of it, I get to work. My seeds, long since arrived from the seed suppliers, are sorted, examined, and considered. I enjoy a happy morning of seed planting; the snow storm forgotten in my quest for spring.

All of my dutiful little soldiers in this battle against winter—Wapsipinicon Peach tomatoes, Jarrahdale pumpkins, Thelma Sanders squash—are nestled into their individual cells, then watered and covered. A sense of satisfaction and achievement fills me as I survey my work. In a week or so, the seeds will begin to sprout, my little baby seedlings will grow and thrive in the comfort of the indoors. And when spring finally—finally—arrives to stay, I will transport them to the wonderful outdoors to fulfill their destinies as tomato, pumpkin, and squash plants.

The snow still swirls and blows outdoors, but it is already springtime in my heart.