Coming home to a gardener means more than returning to the embrace of our family. Coming home means returning to the place many of us feel most at home, our gardens.
As I was sitting in the Minneapolis airport, waiting for my flight home, I thought about how I had just spent three days almost entirely indoors. As you can surmise, this was not a garden trekking trip. From the window of my cab I had gazed upon a landscape that was still patiently waiting for Mother Nature to make her entrance.
In Cincinnati we are deep into spring and flirting with summer. I wondered if my northern garden friends were impatiently waiting, pacing, trowels in hand, for the first day of gardening to arrive. A previous resident of northern Wisconsin I know that feeling well. One April day when I was living in the northern clime, my dad called from Cincinnati and cheerfully told me of his day spent running, mowing the lawn and grilling out. I was tempted to toss aside the quilt I was buried under and book the movers then and there. It took me a few more years to make the move, but eventually I found myself back home in Cincinnati.
This trip away from home was far shorter than my previous 10 year absence. Nonetheless, I felt like I had been away far longer. As the plane landed I was excited for those in the upper Midwest who were yet to experience the first flush of spring. The feeling of waking up, of being energized and in sync with the gardens and landscape returning to life is thrilling. I was also eager to see what had transpired in the gardens of my neighborhood and in the park.
Oh the gardens had changed in the few days I was away! The courtyard and the gardens throughout the property were full of new blooms and I am certain all the plants had grown a foot! I enjoy traveling, especially when I am exploring new gardens, woodland trails and small country towns. But it is always a wonderful feeling to return to the gardens I call home.
Jenny Koester, AKA The Landless Gardener, is the author of the garden blog The Garden Life.