It’s been a cold spring in southwestern Vermont this year. It’s been so cold, it’s even easy to forget it is spring until the leaves on the trees explode into view in the space of a week.
Last night I wandered out to the garden with the weed bucket and noticed the asparagus was up. From the look of things, it had been up for some time. Most of the plants had bolted into tall feathery tendrils.
I noticed one last spear, still recognizable as something that should go on a plate and broke it off. Every food you grow yourself tastes better than what you can buy in the store, but this little sprag was especially sweet.
I can’t believe I almost missed the spring while hiding in my cave from the cold.
Picking My Battles 