With every turn of a season, Clive and I find a way to honor and celebrate it. We live in awareness of our alignment with nature, so it makes sense for us to acknowledge the shifts. Usually over coffee, we take some time to discuss the previous season and our goals and wishes for the next one. A clearing usually takes place, too, whether it’s supplies from the garage we no longer need, making space for something, or moving wood chips.

The Spring Equinox always surprises me, though. Coming out of winter, a time of rest and rejuvenation, I feel energized going into Spring. Ready with lists and visions to make happen. 

And so far, every year, what happens on the day of the Equinox? My energy tanks. I need a nap. Most items on the list remain unchecked. I’m confused, at first, and then I’m reminded: Spring is a transition from Winter to Summer. It’s a mix of rest and action, with the energy slowly building, at first, toward Summer. Realizing this, the lessons of Winter — rejuvenation, rest, and peace — can carry us through the year. Even gardens need rest at the end of every season, before the next.

Seeds planted don’t immediately sprout and produce vegetables or flowers. The daffodils open over time. The trees slowly cover themselves in leaves. For the first half of springtime, anyway, Mother Nature is slowly waking. Which, I suppose, makes sense that I feel the same way.  I’m still waking up.

So this first weekend of Spring, we’ve enjoyed coffee time with Charlie and some restful moments. We’ve begun clearing pathways in the woods so we can walk without being grabbed by greenbriers. We’ve moved a big pile of wood chips to the potato patch and zinnia beds. We’ve done some Spring cleaning and indulged in hobbies. The sun has shone, and the clouds have rained. The temperature’s dropped. I guess you could say we’re warming up for the sprint of summer. 

I’m so grateful for the reminder that the time in Spring isn’t about pushing and sprinting and non-stop work. It’s about ease and effort. Rest and care and gentle action. Excitement and anticipation. Joy. Visions of the garden spaces and the seeds we’re going to nurture.

I suppose it’s a time of manifestation and dreams, both in the garden and in our lives.