It's a beautiful morning in the foothills of northern Georgia where the sun sometimes shines so bright it hurts your eyes. February is normally a very temperate month in this state, but nature has brought us something a little different this year with snow flurries, and even a three-inch ground cover that lasted almost twenty-four hours. Today looks inviting, but as you step out into the sun it is apparent that some fortification is needed. The thermometer goes no higher than 34 degrees, and it's almost noon. Seems there is no reason to believe the day will get much warmer.
The dogs and I didn't sleep in this morning as we usually do. It was my fault, and as my husband would say, "I take full responsibility for that." I have many things to do, and I have every intention of getting most of them done; that is, until I sit down with my hazelnut cream coffee and toast and realize how comfy I am curled up in my warm robe with my four furry companions and lounging in my still-toasty bed covers. Life is good.
After a two hour dose of The West Wing reruns I thought to look out to my backyard garden space where I need to begin to clear winter weeds out for spring planting. Three dogs moan as I encourage them to leave those wonderful blankets of warmth. The fourth dog can't be bothered and stays quietly hidden, for fear of being discovered, in the folds of luxury.
It wasn't long before I discovered an unusual figure lurking in my back yard. There, in the 34 degree morning, was a woman in shorts and a tee shirt working steadily in my garden. She had a tool I call "the claw" and was twisting the soil with it and pulling out all the loosened growth. I couldn't help but laugh at this crazy woman dressed in such a manner in the cold weather. I watched closely as she painstakingly cleared away what I had needed to do and then stood back to admire her work. I was so thrilled that the job was done and wanted desperately to rush out and thank her for her help, but a little voice in my head cautioned me to just let the matter go, and perhaps she already knew that there would be a thankful gardener inside and really didn't want to receive any accolades for her efforts.
I looked out my kitchen window upon the newly turned soil in my garden, and expressed a small sigh of gratitude that the job was finished. Now in a few short weeks I could begin to plan for the flowers and herbs that I would grow for the season.
I grabbed another cup of hazelnut cream coffee and headed toward my computer when I thought to myself, "My, it really is quite chilly in this house today." I gave the thermostat on the wall a couple of clicks and headed to my room to change from my shorts and tee to a nice warm sweatsuit.