In Search of Spring

    ...It seemed that we here in Ohio were destined to be buried in giant mountains of snow until the 4th of July, but finally the snows melted.  The groundhog's curse was brutal, but we survived.  Digging out mentally was as tough as it was physically for most of us.  Picture, if you will, me after having cautiously come out of my cave of hibernation, sitting with a  hot mug of tea in my hands for about two months.  Dreams of little green pots of tender herbs were prominent in my fuzzy winter-worn mind.  As it began to warm up outside, I ventured out to inspect the garden areas around Johnson House.   The brave spring soldiers were poking their precious green tips through decayed leaf cover signaling that it was time to scrape the crud off the garden beds.  We both needed fresh warm air and sunlight.  There they were, lungwort and lily of the valley, faithful spring heralds springing forth to declare their victorious arrival. Everywhere the forget-me-nots were sprouting.  Lambs ear and tansy were already gaining ground as they pushed their way through the old leaves and debris from the hard winter.  My greatest joy was to see the few remaining tulips producing their bright red blooms.   I couldn't resist cutting them to bring into the house.  My personal favorite flower is tulip.  Much as I love roses, I still favor tulips over them.  And for many years I have made a point to photograph my dear flower friends.  Suddenly it finally felt like spring when I brought the freshly cut flowers into my kitchen.  Outside it was raining...raining...and raining.  I would almost rather see it snow...bite my tongue!  But with all the rain came the greening of the world here in Ohio.  A kind of giddy madness has infested everyone after such a hard and dreary winter.  Now I understand why society created spring festivals.  The sunshine and flowers, the green grass after months of nothing but white and grey landscapes all make one want to dance in celebration.  Many years ago I lived in an apartment that was located on a dairy farm.  City girl that I am, or more accurately suburban girl, I did not know a lot about dairy cattle.  The dear beasts were housed in barns all winter.  When spring allowed, that special day came when the barns were opened and the cows were turned out to pasture.  As the herd filed out of the barn, some of the cows began to kick up their back legs.  More and more of them jumped and ran as they realized they were outside in the sunshine.  It was comical to see such big, cumbersome creatures leaping and scampering, happy to be free from the barn finally.  I feel your joy, my fellow creatures.  I finally understand how you felt.    
       It is with that same joy in my spirit that I am turning the page on a finished chapter of my life and beginning a new one.  For a while now I have been struggling with leaving the old things to begin the new things.  Moving from Johnson House after 25 years of gardening writing, photography and art is a major change of lifestyle.  My greatest sadness was to consider that I would not be able to have a garden when I moved.  That sadness was remedied by my finding an apartment with a bit of yard where I can house my pots of herbs.  The spirit of Johnson House travels with me.  I am about to explore the wonderful world of container gardening with greater intensity.  The next new chapter will very definitely be colored green.  Happily I am returning to my hometown of Barberton, Ohio.  I will be within walking distance to Lake Anna, a special source of inspiration and serenity for me.  It will be a good spring and summer promises new adventures.  Barberton has new things happening.   Rumor has it that art studios will be cropping up around the lake.  I am excited about that possibility.  With May comes the Cherry Blossom Festival.  The lake will be exploding with color as the cherry blossom trees dazzle the world with their delicate palette.  With the warm weather came the public to stroll around the lake to watch the ducks, Canadian geese and gulls playing on the lake.  The ever present pair of white swans regally swimming around the lake as if surveying their kingdom.  All was right with the world in the magic land of Barberton. 
       ...Who says you can't go home again?...