It's not uncommon for a true gardener to begin yearning to work the soil around this time of the season. We've had enough of the white stuff turning to 10 foot mounds of blackened snow/ice/detritus...we've had enough of wondering how our bulbs and perennials are doing underneath the weight of it all...the catalogs are arriving with choices of award winning roses, new coneflower colors, tomatoes. We're planning our vegetable gardens, thinking of compost and butterflies... and the weakest among us might venture out in a frozen daze, rake or spade in hand, and if not caught by a loved one, wind up like this poor soul. She's in there, dreaming of warmer days that quite possibly she'll never see again...ornamental grasses blowing in a warm spring breeze. I couldn't even climb to the top of this pile to call out to her.
