I often hear many people say that they have one favorite season.  They tell me very decisively that they look forward to that one season every year.  I listen politely and begin to ponder at what my most loved time of year might be.  Each time I try to narrow it down to one I become hesitant to say with absolute certainty that I cherish one season above any other.  By now you’re probably wondering which one I finally chose, but after much consideration I have come to the conclusion that I do not have a favorite season.  I enjoy each season with the same amount of admiration, but in different ways.  I assume that makes me seem indecisive; however, I really do always find something to be in awe of that makes the change welcome.  

It is my feeling that spring sneaks upon us with a few hints of it here and there, then suddenly before you know it everywhere you turn there is spectacular beauty.  This year spring comes to me in a very powerful way.  As I open my eyes in the morning to my brightly green crape myrtles outside my window that were once bare not so long ago, I am reminded that it is a time of renewal.  Every year after the freezing nights and dreary winter rains (here in the South that is), all plants will begin again and start over.  As I have in my relationship with gardening, we have reconnected and begun to show our love for each other in a new way.  Only this time the passion I have for gardening is fully expressed out in the open for everyone to see.  It will no more be suppressed with the fear of seeming too eager to be apart of this fascinating world we call horticulture.  Just as the flowers have lost their fear of another cold spell by letting their buds unfold, I am also finding the courage to bloom into the person I have always wanted to be by letting go of my anxieties that the cold will come again. 

As this moment of change is upon me and spring is in the air I am filled with a new-found joyfulness.  A quote from one of my favorite books comes into mind, “Happiness? The color of it must be spring green, impossible to describe until I see a just-hatched lizard sunning on a stone.  The color, the glowing green lizard skin, repeats in every new leaf.  ‘The force that through the green fuse drives the flower…’ Dylan Thomas wrote.  ‘Fuse’ and ‘force’ are excellent word choices-the regenerative power of nature explodes in every weed, stalk, branch.  Working the mild sun, I feel the green fuse of my body, too.  Surges of energy, kaleidoscopic sunlight through the leaves, the soft breeze that makes me want to say the word ‘zephyr’-this mindless simplicity can be called happiness.” (Frances Mayes from Bella Tuscany) Even as a writer words do not come easy to describe how honored I feel to be given this opportunity.  Every day spring assures me that change can come with splendid possibilities.  So onward to a new chapter in my garden journey…  “When the Maples begin to leaf and you can plant outdoors once more, thank God that you’ve lived to enjoy another spring.” -Richardson Wright from The Gardener’s Bed-Book