I suppose it's fitting with Easter this weekend that I see this week as a time of renewal and beginning. Outside, buds from bulbs planted last fall are blossoming. Bleeding Hearts are coming back to life. Tulips are in full bloom and lilacs are budding. Our Dwarf Redbud is blossoming with green leaves starting to open. Inside, I have to recommit to the process I've begun. The sprouts need the most care at this transition time from baby to youth. Sometimes I need to water them twice a day, move them to the best location for success and think about the next stage--if I remove them from the heat mats and grow lights, will the sun porch still be too cold at night? I'll watch and decide day by day.
The petunias are off the heat mats but are still positioned around the edges under the spreading rays of the light. They are doing beautifully and a few were even big enough to pot for a neighbor for Easter. (The two blue survivors are alive, though one has yellow leaves under the same conditions as it's sister.) The geraniums are growing slowly. The "Rose Ice" variety are fewer and behind the others.
The first heirloom tomatoes I planted (Marianna's Peace and Carmello) are growing steadily in larger containers. The "Big Orange" variety are popping up vigorously and "Anna Russian" isn't far behind. New beginnings are everywhere.
Transplanting is an activity I do every day with sprouts that are very tall with two leaves or have grown three or four leaves. I have to care for them and decide daily which to transplant so their roots, already spreading and attaching to the peat pot, won't be damaged. Handling the earth and the plants is relaxing and makes me feel as if I'm part of nature and the growing process.
Renewal and commitment. Isn't that what life is all about?
©2012 Karen Rose Smith