That equinox did set off a flurry of activity outside. The pear tree became showy in a temporary coat of white flowers; cardinals, Robins and finches returned looking for seeds housed in the feeder suspended from a crape myrtle branch. The field beyond the yard soon became awash in pale hues of yellow, lavender and white as delicate wildflowers collectively made a grand display of it. Dandelions awoke as well, and I wished I like their bitterness for then I may be more tolerant of their pervasive nature. Instead, with trowel in hand I dig up the root stem hoping I got it all waiting to see where another will emerge. The lettuce I sowed a month earlier is joyfully growing in these temperatures and I dare not let it know its days are numbered. Arugula , beets and carrots are on course for a late spring bounty, and the first to arrive, the radish has already been sliced up. With the generosity of Mother Nature even my peas are climbing the ropes strung between stakes.
Spring hit without any loin’s roar, and after last year’s blunder with my attempt to raise peas I was worried the immediate warmth would mark another year of thwarted growth. But I spent the first few weeks watering their spot with iced water in the hopes it would keep the earth cool enough for its liking. The subsequent emergence of their ruffled leaves gave me great relief and pleasure. And now, as of yesterday, I have flowers! So, tempting to just snack on the sweet petal but I must keep my eye on the long view, and the pods I have waited over a year for.
6 celery stalks
1/2-cup shredded sorrel leaves
4 scallions – sliced on an angle
3-tablespoons white wine vinegar
1/4-cup olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper taste