Dreaming of spring ...

I love to garden, so a time when I cannot dig in -- or even see -- the earth, depresses me. 

Even non-gardeners suffer from the bleakness of short days and long nights in our northern winters.


Wendy in my last garden.

Now as the sun slowly begins its return, I cling to the memory of  summers past and yearn for the spring yet to come.

I dream of things I want to do with my garden.  Stone-lined paths I want to make.  Bird feeders, bird houses, an arbour, a new pond and a bridge top the list.

My last garden

I scroll through images of my last garden.  It was an open, unadorned grassed-yard when I moved in, but four years later it was loaded with perennials and meandering paths.  Four years -- but I was working full-time.  Now I'm retired,  I figure I can do it in three with my present yard.

Ponds, bench and paths in my last garden.

Feel free to time me.  Pull up a chair while you're waiting.

Last yard deck.