Oh the urge is there, simmering below the surface. My hands can feel the warm earth; I can smell the peaty soil. You already know that I am lovingly sorting through packets of seeds. Soon, enough snow will be melted that I will be able to make the trek out to the greenhouse and gather the remnants of last years seed packets (yes, I do keep them).
The shed doors will again be moveable, able to slide open and reveal to me stack after stack of small empty pots waiting to be moved to a sunlit window, filled with potting soil, made ready for tiny seeds.
And so I am sorely tempted. But experience tells me to wait. To relax and step back, as it is not time, not yet.
Too early a start means leggy seedlings, high electricity bills, and running out of room as plants are ready before the outdoors has warmed enough to receive them.
Instead, I inspect the house geraniums and hoyas for flower buds, watch the elephant ear sprout ever larger leaves after being quiet for most of the past 5 months, trim the lemon tree ready to ready it for a spring growth spurt, and observe daily changes in the orchid that lives in an east window.
Until spring has truly arrived, patience is the wisdom of gardeners in this area, even as our friends in warmer climates share pictures and stories of burgeoning spring. My brother with his two foot tomato plants, others with azalea and rhododendron blooms, and dancing daffodils.
But our turn will come, when the snow melts, the earth warms up, and the sun stay longer each day. So patience, relax, enjoy the zen of the green thumb. The garden cats will show us how.