April 6, 2023
We have fully turned the corner, it's officially spring, and winter exists only in our memories. Leftover cold winds barely graze our heels as we hike into longer, brighter days, and before we know it, we’ll be skipping gleefully past April’s showers heading straight into the warmth of May. The season’s first full moon paid us a visit, and the sun’s rays have begun to amplify. New growth will continue to be triggered, and seedlings will rapidly transform into blooms. Soon the view outside our windows will be full of colorful life again.
As we welcome a new growing season, early blooming perennials and bulbs have gotten their regular head-start, and vegetable gardeners who are on top of their game may already have some broccoli and pepper seedlings sprouting indoors. Aside from the exceptions, most plant life residing in hardiness zones 5 and 6 will be patiently waiting to expose their blooms until the coast is clear of frost possibilities. On average, April 17 is the last day Chicagoland will be cold enough to freeze until roughly November 1, and the growing season lives in the approximately 170 days in between.
Nature-loving-mama tendencies would have normally sprouted some kind of themed seed-starting project for my daughter and I to partake in by now, but this year things are much different than when we last partook in an early-spring planting session. Her latest growth spurts have been accompanied by a plethora of new challenges for both of us. Suddenly my suggestions and hugs became annoying, defiance replaced giggles, enthusiastic YESes started turning into harsh NOs, and poof! our family life changed vastly. I did not get the memo in time to prepare, but apparently 10 is the new 14. My daughter certainly does not seem to be the only 5th grader fast-forwarding their way out of childhood. Her peers seem to be in the same (speed)boat. It’s like little humans have all been doused with grow-fast fertilizer, or maybe it’s something in the water, or quite possibly the effects of covid-life, and living on the internet… Either way, here we are, and to be honest, I’ve been a bit stuck as the shock of my little girl’s transformation into an insta-pre-teen has left me whiplashed, challenged, and missing the past.
It really hit me in the last weeks of winter. In an effort to de-stress, and find something positive or inspiring in nature to distract myself from frustrations, most evenings I’d force myself outside regardless of the weather to take a walk. In Chicago’s winters most of the natural world tends to be withered and gray which is actually kind of a bummer when you are looking for an uplifting distraction, but I continued walking and kept looking. I looked hard, up at the bare trees, down at the sad yellow grass, all around all I saw was last year’s dead plants until eventually I DID begin to notice something so invigorating…
When it’s cold outside, nature seems lifeless, however most plants aren’t really dead at all. They are in a state of dormancy… which is actually a tremendously important part of their life! Plants and trees are actually very alive in the winter, in fact they are super busy powering up for a massive transformation. If you look closely you can see foreshadowing hints of rebirth even in the frigid cold. For instance, trees actually produce their buds for the following year in the fall as their leaves are falling. Noticing the budding life in the midst of winter is a great reminder that new growth is inevitable, and there’s always something to look forward to. While contemplating solutions to the issues we were facing at home, visually studying plant life as it endured the brutal conditions outside seemed to initiate a sense of clarity, and shine a light that enabled me to re-discover an abundance of gratitude.
Last year’s fallen debris, the shedded layers, and detached appendages that were left to decompose among the thawing mud started to remind me of the regular go-to activities in our past day-to-day life that eventually faded into the treasured memories that I was missing. The unicorn costumes that no longer fit, cherished dolls now far too lame to play with, the kite-flying playground adventures that are no longer anticipated… Just like the beautiful flowers and bright green leaves that flourished in the past, those wonderful details from the past unfortunately have to make room for budding new interests to bloom into new experiences. They too will one day detach from our lives, and blow away in the wind like the autumn leaves as the circle of life continues.
Of course this mental connection between sentimental memories and last year’s blooms instigated a new collection of nature gems I gathered along my cold weather walks. At home one evening during bedtime when we used to read books, I wound up in a heated negotiation with my tiktok possessed 10 yr old who I had just caught with my stolen phone as she was eating spoonfuls of raw powdered cake mix in bed. Desperately in need of a peaceful solution and the failure feelings to go away , I made my way outside to disconnect the internet connection for the entire house. After saying goodnight, and attempting to exhale negative thoughts, my attention gravitated towards my latest collection. Intricate seeds, delicately wilted petals, hunks of deformed bark, autumn painted leaves, wispy grass tassels, plucked pieces of nature frozen in time sat captured in jars and baskets on my craft table. Hmm now what am I supposed to do with all this stuff?
I started pairing and weaving pieces together and some interesting works resulted. While I fiddled and crafted, I thought about all the wonderful memories my daughter and I shared. Calm creativity combined with joyous reflections felt meditative, and a smile finally formed on my frown ridden face. I walked away from the table feeling relieved, inspired to stay positive, and appreciative of the good times in the past, present and future.
I can’t say that hoarding dead plant parts will bring joy to many others or solve anyone else’s life problems so I’m not suggesting that this is the answer for everyone going through difficult changes. Maybe a better way to put it is that when life gets complicated, loud, frustrating, painful, exhausting… unplug, simplify, breathe, find nature, plant some seeds, and maybe you’ll end up growing.
Coming up next: What’s Growing On