Optimism in a Bag

I bought daffodils yesterday---fifty of them, papery tan lumps full of the promise of Spring. It’s too early yet to plant them, better to wait for first frost and for the ground to cool. If I plant them now, I risk them becoming confused and beginning to sprout and grow. Of course, if I don’t plant them now I run the risk of being distracted or busy --or lazy-- when the proper time comes… or forgetting all about them until February.

Perfect daffodil planting weather---in MY opinion of course---comes sometime in mid-October. The nights will be chilly and frosty enough that my flowers are done. The ground should be good and cool, but not frozen so solid I can’t dig in it. The sun should be out so I’ll want to be out in it.  The Seahawks need to be having a winning season---and based on the way our offensive line looks I’m questioning if that’s going to be happening much. Can’t we go on eBay and buy and O-line for Pete’s sake? Actually, for Russell’s sake? C’mon man!

Where was I?

Daffodils?

 Oh, right. My point is if the Hawks are winning I will be in a happy mood when I’m planting. But one of the beautiful things about gardening is that it is a Life Affirming Activity--sort of like shopping at Target, only outdoors. Getting out under the expanse of sky, getting my hands dirty digging in the good earth, dropping papery brown lumps into the dirt; believing they will somehow transform into sunny yellow harbingers of spring. 

Gardening is a transformative experience. It can take me out of myself, lift my mood, and turn my crabby into peace.  If to plant a garden is an act of faith, then gardening also feels like an act of worship to me, both homage and prayer. Gardening is good for the soul.