I’m sure it’s because of the snow, and the lack of sun, and the cold and, of course, because it’s February, the shortest, but, in fact, the “longest” month (despite what T.S. Eliot says about April) that my energy begins to turn toward things green and new growth. (It is also notable that my energies turn in this direction way before the earth’s).
And so I have found myself sprouting the core/ends/eyes of vegetables that I would usually compost–Romaine lettuce, garlic, potatoes, celery, carrots, beets, daikon radish. It’s not that this is a new activity for us. We have two avocado plants, an orange tree, date palms grown from seeds of delicious meals. But this last few weeks, it has become a near obsession with formerly considered detritus. I have put a splash of water in bowls, glasses, and plates tucked behind the kitchen sink, acting as incubators for potential harvest. When I shop now, I see new possible plants from the vegetables I buy.
Today, I planted my first crop of vegetables in potting soil.
It helps me transition to spring with visceral promise.