Spring is a time of intentions. New beginnings. Fresh starts. For Mother Earth — and the humans who behold and nurture it — it is a time of awakening and emergence. For the nature-lover who gardens under glass during the cold winter months, it’s time to return to the earth what was borrowed from it the autumn before.
I have always been drawn to glass gardens. The very sight of a greenhouse has always sparked curiosity about what might be growing inside… seedlings for next year’s garden…colorful perennials newly rooted from cuttings…a family’s treasured collection of heirloom orchids.
Seven years ago, I finally built my own greenhouse. My original goal was simply protection: winter shelter for temperature-sensitive annuals that could then be returned to the gardens when spring arrived. But the rewards far exceeded my expectations — the splendor of perpetual blooms and foliage from my studio window on gray, wintry days…the luxury of eating fresh, homegrown fruits, vegetables and herbs year-round. Conventional gardening seasons no longer existed.
There’s something comforting and restorative about working in the greenhouse. It becomes a private sanctum that buffers you from the everyday stresses of the outside world, not to mention inclement weather. Outside, the north wind may be howling, cold rain may be pounding the roof. But inside my greenhouse, it’s warm and dry and ever-green, and I instantly slip into the natural rhythm of nurturing new life while — consciously or not — contemplating my own.
In this protective world of my own making, my results depend entirely on my own skill. My hands move through most soil in staging beds and seed trays, small microcosms of Mother Earth, who absorbs all my negative thoughts and feelings and suffuses me with the feeling of “this is what life is all about.”
There’s nothing more gratifying than watching your seeds and cuttings grow and thrive throughout the winter, storing nutrients for a brilliant emergence in the spring. Because I can control every aspect of my greenhouse environment, there’s virtually no plant beyond my reach and no end to my personal gardening growth.
Planting, fertilizing, watering, harvesting, or contemplating… whatever I’m doing out there, I’m always at peace.
image credit: pdeee454