Published in Caledon Living, Spring 2006:
     It must be the smell of the earth thawing out under the warmth of the sun. Almost everyone feels it, even young children and people who don’t like the hard work of gardening in the dry heat waves of August. There’s something like effervescence in the air, something that wakes you up, makes you light-headed, eager to be outside, energetic and ready to get your hands dirty.
     Spring fever makes us frisky. The Biblical author of the Song of Solomon recognized this when writing
          Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away;
          for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.
          The flowers appear on the earth;
           the time of singing has come,
           and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
Just as spring is a time for the renewal of plant life, it is a time for animals to give birth and for people to feel love.
     For many of us, that love includes a desire to get close to the earth. How many of us are enthusiastic gardeners in spring? Every chore seems a joy, as we rake away debris, turn compost piles, dig up vegetable beds, plan ambitious new projects. No task seems too onerous during the perfect days of spring.
     Perhaps it’s a vestige of our peasant heritage. Perhaps we feel a primitive urge to work the soil in preparation for planting food for our own survival. Although we may no longer need or even want to plant potatoes and onions, the instinct may remain, although now it’s directed toward clematis and delphinium.
     It leads us to the nursery, full of intoxicating fragrances and visions. We want everything, regardless of limits to our budgets or size of garden. We want to plant lilacs and fruit trees, not thinking about the shade and over-abundant harvest they can create. We want unusual, spectacular, expensive perennials, and don’t really assess whether they will soon grow too large or perhaps die out in our gardens’ micro climates.
     We want to festoon our houses with the perfect mini gardens in beautiful hanging pots that dangle before our eyes in the nursery, forgetting that they need the right amount of sun, but not too much, and perhaps twice-daily watering and even some fertilizing to keep them in perfect condition.
     How many houses are gorgeous with flowering baskets for a few weeks in spring, only to end up sporting white plastic buckets of exhausted blooms or even straw? Spring gardening enthusiasts live here, full of initial hope yet unable to maintain the magazine-cover look they dream of for their homes.
     This may explain the constant popularity of common annuals. Cheerful, hardy, easy-to-grow, continuous bloomers with a bit of maintenance, they deliver reliable results from spring through fall. Pansies, impatiens, petunias and marigolds are ideal for everything from a child’s garden to decorative planters to a cutting garden for small bouquets. One flat of each means a lot of planting and a fair bit of dead heading through the season, but will cloak your garden in instant and continuing colour and scent.
     If you’ve done the planting in the fall, you’ll be enjoying the glories of spring bulbs. While all of them are gorgeous, there is surely no better value for the money than daffodils. Squirrels leave them alone, they last a good while as a cut flower, and best of all, they multiply and spread each year. Plus, they come in a variety of species so that you can have different sizes and colour combinations. Their early blooms make them a welcome herald of spring. Even in a muddy rain, their sunshine trumpets brighten the day.
     Whether you’re starting a new garden or working an established one, the single most important activity to do in the spring must be done before planting. Good gardeners, of course, do it throughout the three gardening seasons. Improving the soil is vital for healthy plants, impressive blooms and a good harvest.
     Just as a house needs a solid foundation, plants grow better in good soil. You can complete a scientific analysis of the chemical composition of your soil, and buy additives to get the balance just right, or you can do as our ancestor gardeners, farmers and peasants did, and simply loosen the soil before adding any nutritious stuff you can get your hands on. Again, you can buy it, but a good amount can be had for free.
     Compost comes out of kitchen scraps and garden refuse. It’s satisfying to use up last year’s compost in spring beds and start a new pile with the dead material from the garden at winter’s end.
     Although experts may advise you to add only the perfectly decomposed “chocolate cake” soil from the compost pile, there is no harm in turning under some bigger pieces of composting stuff. It will break down further quickly in the beds, feeding plants just as well.
     Leaves are another great addition to soil. If you’ve thought ahead, you gathered a great supply of them last fall, and can rake in handfuls of them, wet or dry, into the soil. If you haven’t stored any leaves over winter, use what you rake from your lawn, or even ask neighbours for theirs. If they have several mature trees, they may be delighted to part with some.
     Lawn cuttings are another free additive. The truth is that any natural plant material that decomposes quickly, which excludes sticks, twigs and very thick stalks, can be turned into your soil as a nutritious plant tonic.
     There can be no better gift for a passionate gardener than a pile of manure. Well-rotted, light, crumbly, odour-free, whether of cow, horse or other animal, it will enrich and boost your soil like nothing else. It is one reason to cultivate friendships with farmers. You may even be able to barter for it – say an hour of your professional service for a pile of manure, delivered. It has happened to me, and I thought myself the winner in the exchange.
     Getting your hands dirty and getting sweaty from hard work are part of the joys of springtime. How rewarding it is to clean up in the shower afterward, reward yourself with a beverage of choice, and look out onto your garden, full of beauty and promise for another year. Everyone can be a lover in the spring.
 

By Gloria Hildebrandt