02.02.2026 | Ordinary Monday

​Sanctuary
 
I miss the Garden. I miss everything about working with the soil: digging, planting, weeding, simply doing. This frozen tundra of white is starting to wear on me. I need my sanctuary. I need the solace. I need the movement.
 
The daily walks with the Doodle girl are good, but they are treacherous in the City where one sidewalk is plowed and the next two are not. Every intersection becomes a small mountain range of plowed snow. Not the best environment for an old man and a young, energetic Doodle girl.
 
Still, I walk every day. I still head out into the garden, mostly to feed the birds now. It gives me something to do, a small ritual of care. Later I will be doing the dog-owner walk of shame, hunting and pecking for, shall we say, Doodle Droppings. Necessary work, but a bit comical in deep mid-winter snow.
 
There is a forecast for a bit of a warmup in the next couple of weeks, a welcome break from the single-digit frozenness we have been enduring. I am hoping to see my hellebores again. I miss their brave blossoms this time of year. And we are quickly approaching the season to cut back the Autumn Raspberries and the Clematis. Come on, warm-up.
 
I miss working in the front garden and talking with neighbors as they pass by, conversations about gardens and life. They say the surest cure for loneliness is a front garden that needs constant tending. You have to be out there, doing things, and you naturally meet the people who wander by. A simple joy missing from our lives right now, but we know Spring will come. For now, we plan.
 
Orders are going in for spring onions. Lettuce seedlings will be started soon. Gardening will return.
And I am ready. Ready for a bit of joy and hope. Ready to return to the sanctuary of the garden.