The Monday of Spring Break means going outside once the coffee has broken through the fatigue and going outside and digging.

The Monday of Spring Break is planting. Planting my feet in the soil. Planting myself firmly in the center of a project and digging in until i have either finished or exhausted myself.

Today, I worked in the front garden. Since we moved here, I have barely touched it except to put in some daffodil bulbs, weed, and sig out the perimeter stones. I was anxious about destroying what was already there. Even if I didn’t really like it.

Several years ago, I did rip out the decorative grass. I hated it. And boy did my mother give me grief about it. Apparently it is very nice and expensive decorative grass. I invited her to take it to Florida and plant it around the condo where she lives. For some odd reason, she declined. I guess the grass wasn’t as nice as she thought.

Today, I dug up my asters and transplanted them to different sections of the garden. They have been growing around and under the boundary stones. I have been terrified of moving them, convinced that I would kill the lot. Today, I grabbed my courage in both hands, and the shovel, and moved them. They certainly look unhappy with the change. But I’m hoping that with time and care the will come back.

Today was about taking those chances. About taking ownership over my garden and doing what I want even if it flies in the face of reason. Today was about gardening with intention. Of planning out what plants go where depending on height. Or appearance. Or God knows but I’m trying to today was about planting cups of seedlings as I try to plant native wildflowers in my garden and hope that they will look as halfway lovely in my yard as they do in the meadows I hike through.

Today was about watching my dogs sun bathe and dust bathe and grass bathe. Today was about listening to the Micky ignores and chickadees and robins carol to one another as they search for love or nesting sites. Or maybe they were just singing for the joy of it.

Today, I planted. I ripped out old, dead tree roots and tightened edges. And I planted. Myself. My dogs. My sense of pride and sense of peace and my words and my shadow. And tomorrow, I will do it all again. Only a little more slowly because I am aching.