For the life of me, I can't quite figure out why I have avoided putting together a garden post this summer.
When I started blogging last fall, I was sure this would turn into a gardening blog. I couldn't wait till summer, when I'd have so many beautiful flowers to take photos of, a first year greenhouse to journal about, and a vegetable garden to make Mr. McGregor jealous.
But....this was a very strange year for my garden. A very wet, cold spring put everything into lock down mode, perennials played it safe, and my annuals didn't even consider kicking it into gear until August.
I just wasn't feeling the garden love like usual.
I was snapped out of my garden apathy yesterday, when I awoke to temperatures in the thirties. Unbeknownst to me, there had been a frost warning the night before, and once I realized my flowery little friends had dodged an icy bullet, I had a whole new appreciation for them and the crazy year they've endured.
A frost warning.
So, with a fresh reminder that their days are numbered, I will remember those cold, dreary, winter days spent dreaming of color and petals and stems.
I will remember that they are more than a chore.
More than a duty.
They are the stuff my winter dreams are made of.
And that dream is now.