Like everywhere else in the Rocky Mountain region of the northwest, the winter of 2026 has been extremely mild in our neighborhood. To a point of concern.
There have been many prayers for moisture, particularly in the higher elevations. Prayers that we will have enough moisture to offer green grass on dryland areas, and enough water to fill reservoirs for irrigation later on in the year.
As a born and raised farm girl, I understand the significance of water, especially in the western United States.
“Water is King in the West,” my dad always says. And boy, is that certainly the truth.
Yet despite knowing how needed snowpack is in the mountains, and wanting more than just a skiff of snow for my own enjoyment – despite knowing that winter is important and praying that we will actually have a winter in our area of the West – I find myself daydreaming and mentally planning for spring. Already.
Ah, Spring.
That lovely time of year that we all start dreaming about come Mid-March when we’re tired of living in a world of gray. Grey skies; gray clouds; dry, brittle landscapes speckled with muddy snow that can only be described as … gray.
Only this year, I really no excuse for looking forward to spring. I’ve been enjoying a lovely fall all winter thus far!
It’s been rich colors of brown and green. No gray to speak of.
Yet … I can’t help but feel excited for those days of even more rich colors of brown and green. Of getting my hands coated in earth planting young starts. Of weeks before that, gently pressing tiny seeds into a homemade seedling mix of soil; of the days of watering, looking for tiny sprouted heads to poke themselves up.
There is just an excitement there, for me. A childish excitement, full of energy and maybe a little impatience.
I love all the seasons, I really do. I love the life they bring to the outside world, and I truly appreciate the change of pace they bring to my personal life.
The required shift of my focus from one task to another. The adjustment from garden planting, garden maintaining, harvest, to inside tasks. That change that allows me to finally focus on back-burner tasks.
Yet despite this appreciation, and despite our desperate need to have a winter, I am guiltily prepping for spring. Looking forward to more time spent outside in the sunlight and doodling in the garden.
I suppose that is just a sure sign of being a gardener at heart.
I may have plenty of ways to improve my garden, a lengthy list of what I could grow and how I could grow them all better. My performance could always look better.
But as for passion and a true love for something – in gardening, I certainly have that.
So here’s to looking forward to spring. Maybe a little, maybe a lot. Perhaps selfishly, or perhaps in an unselfish desire to simply feed my family healthy, homegrown food (through pure enjoyment of growing and caring for plants). – However you view it.
Spring will come. And when she does arrive in full swing, you can bet I’ll be out there in a Case International pink baseball cap, with grass stains on my jeans and dirt under my fingernails. Loving every second of it.
But before we start praying for spring, let’s keeping praying for winter. Praying that we do get a winter, with enough moisture to allow us a beautiful spring. With enough water to save us and the lands around us against the heat this summer.
And despite that shining sun hanging in the sky outside, enticing me to roll up my sleeves and get to work, let’s also pray that I can hunker down and get to work on some of my in-home to-dos, ‘cause you aught to know I have a laundry list a mile long, and no amount of springtime dreaming can change that.
I imagine, maybe, so do you.
I might be dreaming of spring, but I’m still praying for winter. And I hope that you’ll offer a prayer or two for the same.
