It’s the season of promises. I purchase and borrow, swap and lend and Barefoot farm comes alive again. The bees are in their new home and buzzing away. They’ll be a lot happier if it stops raining. The herb garden is a mostly barren patch. A few plants have returned but there’s a lot of empty space to fill up. I can’t pass by a farmer’s market or stand without checking out the merchandise. A pot of basil and a wisp of stevia. I’ll take those and some nasturtium seeds if you have them. My Carol Deppe order arrived. It’s always a treat to find out that I ordered more than I remember. Candystick Dessert Delicata and Costata Romanesco summer squash for drying and Cascade Ruby-Gold Flint Corn are waiting to hit the dirt. A friend stopped by with envelopes of Scarlett Runner and Rattlesnake beans. Another remembered that Bruce wanted quince and a sweet bush is waiting for a home too. The Oiko’s order is mostly planted. Hops and autumn berry, cranberry and persimmon are all promises of future abundance although they don’t look like much of a much just yet. The little piggies have already changed. They are no longer timid or tiny. There’s a hint of the huge porkers they will be come butchering time. Until then, they’ll be well-treated and cared for. Their short life will be a good one. Asparagus and up and GORGEOUS. Tomorrow, I’ll blanch some and get it in the Excalibur. I love a creamy asparagus soup in January. I’ll eat some, slightly steamed and drenched in fresh butter and I’m going to pickle some too.

Everywhere I look I see blossoms and leaves, sticks and stubble that will feed my loved ones all winter. And as I write this, the sun is starting to peek out. Life feels good just now. I’ll not watch the news tonight. Nothing new will be talked about. The troubles that were there yesterday will be there in the morning. Now is time for something else. The promise of Beltane is being made in the here and now. That’s what I’ll be listening to.