My husband and I were chatting the other day while it was raining…again. We’d both begun to experience what I jokingly call “the FUNK” that sets in around mid January and lasts until we see the bright green leaves peeking at us from some of the neighborhood trees.

Anyway, like I was saying, we were chatting about the drenched soil, the lawn mower and tractor woes he’d been experiencing. You know what I mean. Ever have days where everything you touch just turns to poo? Well, it was happening to him and we were both wondering how we would manage to get everything running and ready for the gardening season…if the rain ever stopped.

While he started flicking through the channels on TV, Geoff and I went out to check the mail (Geoff is my rat terrier who turns completely deaf when he goes outside because…birds). That’s when my world changed…again…just like it does every year around this time.

As I opened the mailbox, there it was. Lying there in all of its multicolored glory waiting for me. The first one. The first seed and plant catalog had finally made it. HALLELUJAH!! Each winter I anxiously await the arrival of those things. They herald Spring, and everything that comes with it. The angel choir was now in full chorus. The chill in the air was a refreshing breeze. The grey sky was now a muted background patiently waiting for the first blossom of the first bulb to bring back the life and color we so miss.

As Geoff and I squished our way across the yard and back into the house I wondered what I would find inside those wonderful pages. I wondered what the conversation would turn to when I revealed my prize to my husband. We stepped inside the house and “such a good boy, Geoff” wiggled over to wait for his “crunchy bone” as I laid the mail on the counter.

I always feel reflective this day each year. I am always surprised at how jubilant I feel when the first one comes -mostly because of how down I am just prior. I guess it’s mostly about perspective, and how I always wait to “see” things in this manner until I get this “sign”. I wonder why I do that? How much joy am I missing by doing this? Ah well, of course I can see it NOW. It’s the same every year.

In a few weeks, the pecan trees will leaf out, and Easter will arrive. Shortly afterwards I will get my hands back in the soil, and think of nothing. That’s the beauty of my garden when I’m out there…the nothing thoughts that float gently around while I dig.