The other day we went on a drive solely for the purpose of exploring the backroads of Wisconsin. The trees no longer have cold, bare arms and the fields are turned to the sunshine, ripe with purpose! In town a few shy greenhouses are hopeful that the fresh breezes will bring a pop of hopeful color to quarantined customers. Conversation turns to plans for our decks and gardens and the wonders of hanging baskets, potted plants, herbs and rows of veggies. "Remember Grandma's house in the summer?" My sister and I giggle. "How in the world did she grow that huge garden and mountain of flowers?" Both our grandmothers must have missed their calling to work in the greenhouse or flower shop. One had a jungle of potted beauties clamoring for sunlight in her front room window. The other was more of an outdoor girl, watering her flower mountain and veggie garden early in the morning in housedress and hair curlers. Questions about their plant babies were always answered with intriguing details about the personality and name of each one and how to do just the right thing to prompt more blooms or nurse back to health. What a lesson there is in that!
We arrive back home, refreshed and renewed, unloading the treasures of our adventure: Delicious Fried Pies from Amish country, a few early flowers and veggies for the garden, some herbs for homemade tea, and a few little plants to add to the window. The finished array of tiered terra cotta pots promises the flower parade will begin very soon. I think there is just something creative and motivational about growing things, don't you?