"Worms, Nana....dig worms." A plea from a sweet two-year couldn't be denied, so we spent a happy time digging for worms in the as-yet-unplanted garden beds.
"ooh, big worm, Nana."
"baby worm, Nana."
"Would you like to hold one?"
"Yes." And his sister picked one up and watched it intently on her palm.
"bye, bye worm," as he sprinkled dirt over the earthworm.
The next all three cousins were over and there was more digging for worms. And happy, dirty faces.
If everyone is said to have to eat a pound of dirt in his/her lifetime, this little boy is well on his way.
In early spring, I wander out to the garden and am enchanted by the first uncurling leaves, the delicate snowdrops, and the sharp thrust of green-leafed bulbs through brown earth.
Then come the crocuses, the aconites, the daffodils, and my heart wells up with delight as the sun warms my back and growth is prodigious. One by one the plants come to life and flower in graceful procession, slowly, so I can keep track.
Now, in full spring, it seems as though everything in the garden is racing ahead, tumbling over each other in the effort to bloom. The bluebells are beginning to unfurl, the first lilacs are blooming, and the wisteria is dancing in the breeze. In the front garden the variegated weigela is showing pink buds, the apple trees are in full bloom, and the rhododendron is ready to burst into blossom any day now.
This mad rush to flower reminds me of my children learning to speak. First one word, then a few, and then more, but we parents could list them all. Then one day, the realization that we couldn't keep up - this young prodigy knew far more words than we could parrot. And so, just as in gardening, we sit back and enjoy the flood - of words or flowers.
How are things in your garden? Just emerging or growing with abandon?