A place to keep my future garden dreams

Nikki, the most prolific reader in my book group, sent me a care package last year. It was a box full of goodies (card, books, etc.), and it arrived at a moment when I was feeling particularly low. Everything inside was carefully chosen, which I appreciated, but I also fell in love with the box itself.

It looked like an old-fashioned recipe box, the kind that holds family treasures and the secrets to favorite dishes. On the outside was a winter scene, illustrated by artist Susan Winget, who is known for her depictions of rural life. There was a small cabin in the background, complete with a stone fireplace. Trees, holly leaves and berries framed the edges. A doe and her two foals filled the foreground. Overlaid upon the image were written words, the ink soft and faded, as if remembered from an old letter.

As soon as I saw the box’s illustration, I wanted to create a path of footprints in the snow, one that would lead me straight to the front door of that cabin. Once inside, I’d light a fire, make something hot to drink and sit in a comfy chair with a good book and a furry kitty.

I knew I had to figure out a way to reuse the box in a meaningful way and it took me a whole year to do so. During that time, it sat empty on a desk in the kitchen, just waiting for inspiration to strike. Once the Muse was ready, she sent seed catalogs my way.

Any gardener will tell you that you plant a garden in the spring, tend it in the summer and break it down in the fall. But in the winter, when the earth is cold and hibernating like a bear, the gardener uses that in-between time to rest and dream. The best gardening dreams begin when those catalogs arrive, filled to the brim with colorful illustrations and tempting descriptions.

What form will my garden take this year? There are so many options! Will it be useful, colorful, edible? Will it be corralled in containers or planted with abandon in the soil? Will it be wild and bee-friendly or tamed and fruitful?

Since seeds are generally much cheaper than plants, I buy packets with abandon. A few varieties were sown in coir pots over winter and baked under LED lights with the aim of getting a jump start on the growing season. The rest of the packets I alphabetized and stacked in order of planting so that I could sow them in proper succession. Then, I filled the winter box with my treasures and made myself forget what was inside.

On May 4th, when the final frost has come and gone, I shall open the box and start planting my garden. I can’t wait to see what will fill my many pots this year.