By Phyllis Galowitz

As I look back in my Garden Journal, which I no longer keep, nor do I do much gardening, I realize that this is a typical March day: Rain, wind, temperatures in the mid-forties, and mud everywhere. The fallen leaves from last October, when the weather suddenly became too cold to work in the garden, have lain on the ground all winter, making a slippery, muddy mess. Broken tree branches are all over the lawn. I need someone with a strong back and a pick-up truck to do a good clean-up and prune back the bushes that the deer have chewed up.

The Spring catalogues are beginning to appear in my mailbox and just as they’re meant to, every beautiful photograph makes me want to buy every plant, tree and bush that I see, but I keep asking myself, “Who will do the planting? Who will drag the hose around the garden to keep them watered? Who will keep them pest-free? And then, when the trees leaf out, where will the sun be to nourish those plantings?” So, I’ll resist. I’ll enjoy whatever comes up from past years and other people’s gardens, while sitting in the shade of those trees planted when I was somewhat younger. And I’ll enjoy my quiet days, reading, swimming, sharing iced tea with a friend, and remembering.

The creatures of Spring have suddenly appeared: Rabbits, gray squirrels and the usual red ones, scampering up and down the pole of the bird feeder and the tree branches, chasing each other. Mourning doves, in their formal attire, strutting elegantly, round and round the pole, hoping to get some sunflower seeds that might drop on the patio floor. And every day another spring bird appears, having just made his journey from somewhere warm. What a backyard show! Lili doesn’t know what to make of it. She lies in front of the glass doors in the kitchen, in a pouncing position, every bone and muscle in her body poised for attack, but, poor thing, she has no idea what to do. She’s never been outside in her whole life. Of course, she’s never had to worry about predators either! So much activity after a lazy winter! She’s exhausted and has decided to hide under the quilt on my bed and take her long, afternoon nap.~