The Promise of Spring...

It's only a few days into February, and I can smell spring in the air. Perhaps it's the hyacinths sneaking green above the surface of the soil, or the small, but obvious buds on the cherry tree that is triggering a Pavlovian response in my head, but the signs are certainly there. This last January was (if local sources are to be believed) the warmest January on record for Seattle, with the temperature never dipping below 42 or so, and frequently poking above 50.

Long ago, I realized that I was subject to "Seasonal Defective Disorder"... or Affective Disorder, something like that. A "disorder" that I chalked up as one of those fruity, modern era afflictions that people label themselves with to explain being surly or unproductive - like ADD or blindness. Wah, wah, wah, I'd exclaim! "The winter is making me sad!" blah.

When I lived in climates where the winters would feature daytime highs of zero degrees, and where a two-foot layer of snow frequently sealed the city for months on end, I could ALMOST allow myself to be subject to such a "disorder". Couple the unpleasant weather with a mere 7 hours of daylight per day, and it was a near epidemic.

However, in the Pacific Northwest, January is a surprising month. Rain and clouds to be certain, but not the oppressive deep freeze of the middle of the country.

January is also the month when seed and garden catalogs arrive, and I lust with great abandon at the lovely plants that are newly discovered or cultivated by folks like Territorial Seed, or Breck's.

Today, I allowed myself to take a good, deep wander around the garden to assess the damage that "winter" had done. Much to my surprise, in addition to the decay of abandoned corn stalks, and withered tomato vines were a surprising number of weeds (not usually so evident until almost President's Day) and the sprouts of young calendula and garlic.


This surprisingly mild January has been wonderful, but I do not look at it without some skepticism for February and March. February has a habit of being deceptively beautiful in Seattle, and March comes along with buckets of rain and wind. But I shall not be deterred.

I have vowed not to start any seeds until the peas go in on President's Day weekend. Let's see if I can keep that promise.