Dante's Wardrobe: Spring Plantings 2019

"Though my sails be torn and tattered
And my mast be turned about
Let the night wind chill me to my very soul
Though the spray might sting my eye
And the stars no light provide
Give me just another morning light to hold

I will not lie me down, this rain a-ragin'
I will not lie me down, in such a storm
And if this night be unblessed, I shall not take my rest
Until I reach another shore"

~ from "A Sailor's Prayer" by Rod MacDonald*

It was a difficult winter. A very dear friend of mine passed away unexpectedly and my husband's mother, who had been fading, took a sudden turn and we lost her too. A friend is working her way through a divorce and another friend is having a sad time overall. I left a job that I had once very much enjoyed for many years after management changes made it untenable. (I was one of ten who decided to leave, though, which was strangely heartening.) It seems our house was so often filled with sorrow.

And the weather was odd throughout: cold, icy, changeable, dim, and grey . . . three late spring snowstorms blew through last month, damaging the crocus just coming up . . . and just a few hours ago, after I'd planted some ground flowers, it hailed and stormed. Now it is sunny again. So . . . it's been a rough and strange few months.

But I take strength from this song: I will not lie me down . . .

When there have been breaks in the rain these past couple of weeks, I've worked on getting the kitchen herb container garden potted as well as those front yard flowers and a few new houseplants for the sun room (we call this room the solarium, which sounds so grand, especially when the storms are raging just beyond the glass).**

The new plants always look so small and ungainly. But I remember they did last summer as well, and yet they grew . . . and grew. First, here's what things looked like then . . . followed by this month's new plantings. Before and after, they give me hope at a time when I very much need some reassurance.

Summer 2018

And now, on to 2019 . . .

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garden plot with destroyed crocus plants

garden plot with new tulips and ground flowers

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I end with the rhubarb . . . which shall not lie itself down for man or woman! If there is hope to be sought, it may be found in rhubarb, which raises itself up like a raging, sweet beast and will brook neither snow, nor hail, or nor endless night frosts.