We hope for a colorful and long spring each year. Some years it seems like summer pops up on the bumper of winter and other years like winter just won't give up. I believe southern people more than most only tolerate those gray days of winter for a short period of time and after that begin to count the days to see what that groundhog is going to tell us. We want a brisk and chilly March to meander into April and a mildly warm May, so we only have a scalding hot July and August. As we look forward to the end of winter, these months create the same longing for Autumn.
Or so that is the life of a southerner who enjoys the flower beds, gardens, and lawns spring resurrection. Having said that, the fickle spring can make it tough for a person to guestimate when to plant. My husband's grandmother would always tell me not to plant until I saw the first bumblebees. The bumblebees know when winter has said its final "goodbye."
My son says a farmer told him on a surveying job that spring comes early if it does not thunder in February. This does not mean rain, but storms. And my mother painted many decorations in the springtime with the saying, "March rolls in like a lion, and leaves out like a lamb." That holds true for this March thus far because all the above have been taking place. And as for Punxsutawney Phil? He saw his shadow predicting six more weeks of winter.
But that was on February 2. That gives us only a good four more weeks. So, could the bumblebees be misguided? Or maybe Punxsutawney Phil does not dabble in what goes on in the south.
My husband complains each year when my overzealous hands and heart start digging and planting when March arrives. And just as he always predicts there is usually that last cold snap in March. There may even be two. But this year a lady in my Master Gardener group taught me some new tricks. She planted her squash seeds into the ground even though another cold snap or two was likely.
She cut off the bottom of gallon jugs and placed one on top of each squash sprout. She left the top of the gallon jugs off but left the lids next to each plant. When the cold popped back up which it did, she screwed the lids back on the jugs creating a type of tiny green house to hold in enough warmth from the sun to protect the baby sprouts.
Well, well, when Mother Nature- meets the Farmer's Almanac - meets Punxsutawney Phil - meets the milk jug - we have Operation Success.
And isn't that so much like life? Life started in a garden by no mistake if you ask me. A garden is the perfect metaphor for mankind and our daily toil on earth with the birds and bumbling bees. The sun and the rain. There is no perfect science to life, although we hope there will be. So, we navigate as best we can. We seek guidance, do our own investigating, practice a bit of trial and error with prayers for grace on our mistakes and those mistakes made around us, and we carry on in hopes of a productive and fruitful life. We have some sunshine and some rain, but there remains the metaphorical promise that April showers will bring May flowers. Surprise cold snaps and all, life is a blessing.
