In the area of Texas that I live, we don’t usually have a very long spring. What most of the world would consider to be “spring weather” we normally get in February and early March. Now it is the end of March and it already feels like summer. The temperature has already reached the 80’s and most of us are ready to jump into a swimming pool.
This is my second spring in the city. To me there isn’t much distinction between spring and summer in the city especially since we have such a short spring. The lack of wildflowers and migrating birds to mark the season is disappointing, but I'm growing used to it.
Growing up spring was one of my most favorite times of the year. My mother encouraged a love for the outdoors and flora and fauna in me during my school years that has never gone away. I believe it was my seventh grade year when she gave me a blank journal and some field guides and told me draw and describe what I found. I learned so much that year about plant life and the different plants local to our area.
With spring comes the itch to garden. It jumped on me last year and I tried to curb it with sacrificial potted plants. It is spring again and the itch is back. My dear husband actually has faith in me to buy me a few more plants, even though so many died at my hand last year.
I have high hopes for my plants this year. I am determined not to kill them. So far the “garden” is only some petunias and a hopeful tomato plant. When these are doing well and I’ve proved to myself (and Jacob!) that I can keep plants alive I’ll get more.