I have always loved Spring, and I always considered Spring to be my favorite season. Even so, this has been the first year that I feel I have truly participated in Spring.

In the last year of my grandmother’s life, she taught me about the Fall. I learned about the harvest, and I participated in the abundance of Fall. I now think of Fall as the oishii season. (Oishii is the Japanese word that roughly corresponds to delicious in English. For more information, you can read an article written by a dear friend of mine here).

My grandmother passed right before Winter, and I think I learned a lot about Winter that year. Last year, I was not able to even think about the garden until around this time. There were perennials left by my grandmother, and my aunt planted some peppers and tomatoes. Except for a failed attempt with a potato that had started to grow in my kitchen, I did not plant anything.

This year, I decided to plant my own garden. I thought about what I enjoyed eating, and I decided to try growing some popcorn. I did a test with my favorite brand of popcorn, which I think is Jolly-time from Walmart. To my delight, the popcorn seeds grew. I planted some tomato seeds, lettuce, radishes and carrots. I was given some baby cabbages by a friend.

My Swedish cousins came for a visit, and they pruned the raspberry and blackberry bushes, as well as the apple trees. They also decided that I need potatoes, so they planted some.

There was a baby apple tree that my grandmother was nurturing in obscurity in the strawberry plants by the garage. Last year, I had to rescue it from the grapevine nearby that tried to strangle it. (Who knew that plants could be so violent?) The apple tree could not be allowed to continue growing there for another year, so with the help of a dear, sweet neighbor, I transplanted it to a place where it could grow freely.

Before this year, I always thought Spring was simple. New life, new birth, a new start that would come into fullness in the Fall. What I never understood was how many mini life and death cycles occur during Spring.

The crocuses, tulips, and daffodils all bloomed and died in turn.

The apple tree blossomed beautifully for about a week or so. Then the blossoms fell and tiny apples began to grow in their place.

A veritable marching band of irises bloomed brilliantly, and then they too passed on, leaving the chore of cleaning the dead blossoms in their wake.

I also learned just how much of a fresh start Spring really is. The mistakes of the previous year are long passed, although, there may still be a bit of cleaning that needs to be done before new things can grow. Decisions about what to grow are re-made. Even perennials may be dug up and discarded. I have enough dried tarragon from the previous year than I will ever use, so I decided to dig up the tarragon left by my grandmother, and plant lavender instead. The rhubarbs were being smothered by violets and strawberries, and I lost the first harvest from it. I freed the rhubarb from them, and now it is growing well.

I also learned about many hidden blessings. For example, I have suffered from Spring allergies since I was about 16. It turns out that violets have medicinal properties, one of which is remedying Spring allergies. I started making what I have been calling “fairy tea,” using violet leaves, raspberry leaves, and whatever else I happen to harvest from my garden that day, such as rose petals, chamomile leaves, and peppermint. I have had the least trouble with Spring allergies than I have had since I was a teenager, and I think that it is thanks to my fairy tea.

In previous years, I have always felt a little sad at the end of Spring, heading into the Summer. I do not this year. I am a bit tired now, and I am ready to settle into Summer.

My garden is growing.

I have added some beauty and some magic to it.

Now, I can relax and enjoy some of the fruits of my labors.