Fighting Mother Winter

Lacing up my heavy boots, I look outside and wish the snow to stop. Three inches of frozen precipitation in the last two hours, adding to four inches that fell last night, creates an impenetrable ice block to my garden gate - which I glance at sideways while climbing the ladder to remove snow from my satellite dish.

The desire to work in my garden overrides the sensibility and impracticality of working in the frozen ground as I push away thoughts of winter and begin dreaming of spring. I brush the snow from the dish, reestablishing the digital signal inside my home. I hear my grandbabies yell "YEAH," as their warm little bodies covered with blankets can again watch "SpongeBob SquarePants," curled up by the fireplace in the shelter of my home. I decide to stay outside.

I push open the garden gate, plowing seven inches of snow aside. For a few seconds, I simply stand, look around and think, "What will I plant this year, where will the tomatoes grow best, how will I rotate my small crop ensuring enriched soil and a healthy bounty?" For a second, I feel the warmth of the summer sun warming my pale, winter cheeks. For a second, I feel alive!

I look to the left and notice a few raised beds have busted their containment and require attention. I look to the right and notice the tracks of a raccoon and remember to purchase netting to top the pond, keeping the koi safe from predators. The blackberries need trimming, the apple trees need pruning and the fence surrounding the garden needs weather-treatment.

As I walk through my garden, I wonder if I put enough mulch on the asparagus and herbs beds to protect them from the winter cold. I wonder if I added enough enrichment last autumn to ensure my soil will offer the right PH for an early lettuce crop. I ask myself if I need to build additional beds to grow more food to sustain my family throughout next winter.

For some, these questions might be needless worrying but for me they offer hope - the hope of an approaching spring, hope of a warm summer day and hope of leisurely working in my garden to encourage food to grow.

Deciding my broken garden beds need immediate attention, I grab my shovel, pick and hammer and begin removing snow. I work arduously to first remove all snow from the broken wood containing the soil of the beds and then plan to repair the damaged wood containing the soil. As I finish removing snow from the last bed, I notice a one-inch layer of ice crystals have formed on the soil of the first bed I worked on.

I laugh audibly as I see the foolishness of my task. My desire to invite spring and summer into my garden is stopped immediately by Mother Winter who still has her wrath to offer to her season. With tools in hand, I kneel to Mother Winter's power and with head slightly bowed, retire to my garage, placing my shovel and pick on the wall and, with a little anger, throw my hammer in the drawer of my tool chest.

Spring will come - just not this week! I open the garage door into my home, remove my boots and brush the snow from my beanie, remove my coat and announce, "The satellite's fixed." My wife asks, "But, it's been working for the last half-hour. Where have you been?"

"Fighting Mother Winter," I say with a laugh.

My wife, knowing me better than I know myself, laughs and says, "I think she won!"

Send comments or other suggestions to Bill Rutherford at [email protected].