Spring

Planning for the garden
pockets full of seeds
a promise of lighter days.

Tending to our tenderness
sowing stories into soil
writing poems while we wait.

It is Ostara— the Spring Equinox and it is snowing in the central prairies of Alberta where I live. Seedlings search for sun at the window and so do I. In the North, the Equinox never feels like the arrival of Spring, but the interim before the awakening. A period to cultivate patience, knowing the land won’t be ready for at least a few more weeks. It is one of the times I love most. The melting into purpose, the sinking into self and the softening into birdsong after many months of quiet. 

The Spring always brings a feeling of gravity; a visceral desire to plant one’s feet into dirt. For many growers, this is a time to romanticize and reimagine what our soil can become, what plants will surprise us with self-seed and what pollinators will come to delight in our offerings. Over time, the garden offers many rich metaphors for the human experience. Perhaps we ponder which of our own habits are worth nurturing and which can be thinned out.

This is a time to hold a vision of our wildest dreams. To prioritize planting what has the potential to feed the most, including those in the soil. It is important that we know ourselves to be the tenders of the land, not as the creators of her fruits. The garden will always tell us what she needs, if we listen. We must deepen our service to the soil, the pollinators and the seeds, and cherish the gifts of wisdom that we gain in presence. It should never be about governing nature, but about growing alongside her.

In regenerative gardening, we look to the cosmos for guidance in our convergence with Earth. We revere the spirit of the soil, so much so that we pack it with us under our fingernails. We pay attention to what days we tend what crops— root day, flower day, leaf day. We hold close the subtitles of the soil, and nourish the microcosm of microbes, mold and magic. 

The start of Spring is an invitation to choose what enriches our lives, and ground our actions in it. To identify the relationships, the habits and the inspirations that truly serve us and make room for them to flourish. In the coming weeks, young and tender shoots will stretch awake, poplar trees will bud and pregnant bulbs will be ready to harvest. We must pay nature with our attention, be witness to her cycles and weave ourselves into them. We must look beyond the veil of what we think we know, for a seedling does not fear the unknown, but simply rises to meet the light.