Earthy Signs of Progress

The air is chilly outside, well on its way toward scraping the freezing mark as predicted later tonight. It's likely to be among the last of such mercurial dips before spring takes a firmer hold of the season, but even so it arrives well past its welcome. Already there is real damage that can be done. We'll cross our fingers on behalf of the blossoms already gracing the fruit trees out back and the forsythia spangling the side yard and meadow, and the miscellaneous buds swelling on branches around the farmstead. A commercial operation might entertain certain interventions against the cold, but ours will have to suffer through on their own, surviving...or not. This isn't business; this is nature.

Meanwhile, over the next few weeks the garden will demand increasing attention before planting and transplanting can begin in earnest -- turning and tilling, cleaning and clearing and nourishing the soil to insure the most hospitable host for seedlings and seed. Already some 2000 soil blocks are cradling germinating seeds in the greenhouse, with more to come -- those in addition to the numerous varieties that will be direct seeded in the ground as soon as it is "safe".

As if, in growth and nature, there is any such thing as "safe".

What we can do, however, is provide the best possible conditions within our control.

And so it was that, never mind the chill in the air, recent warm spells and today's early morning showers offered adequate incentive to wield the broad fork in those garden rows still encumbered with last season's detritus -- gnarly stalks from cabbage and kale, cauliflower and broccoli primarily. The funny thing is that despite the goose-pimply weather it felt good to be out there digging, a bit, and pulling. Just as anticipated, the soil was damp and workable, and the roots and stalks slid out with only occasional protest.

But what was especially satisfying was the sense of the soil itself. When we first started digging this soil almost 5 years ago it was dense, formidable, and full of clay. Over the ensuing years it has welcomed compost, manure, mulch and regular doses of home-stirred Complete Organic Fertilizer. It has been gently opened and respectfully planted. And let's be clear: it still has room for improvement. But more than once today we commented on the change. Instead of unfired pottery, it now looks like...soil. Even damp it has the capacity to crumble from one's hand instead of clumping into a stone.

But there was more than "feel." There were worms. Thousands of them. Every time we extracted a root the remaining hole was a-squiggle in retreating worms, offended by the sudden exposure.

Between the soil and the earthworms, it felt like something of a positive and encouraging report card -- maybe not yet an "A", but certainly well-above passing.

Suddenly, despite the runny nose, it wasn't that chilly after all. Somehow it felt warm all over -- and full of anticipation.