Glorious Summer...A Reverie

During these days, just before the solstice, when the howling wind and biting cold make any gardener long for warmer times (and warmer climes), June and July seem like distant memories.  The perennial beds lie barren from hard frosts that have scorched long stretches where flowers once bloomed.  This time of late dawn and early dark is distinct in that it brings a respite from the demands that come from tending any piece of earth.  Like a caesura in a sestina, the home gardener takes a pause from the poetry of creating a landscape.  These moments of reflection give space for one to assess the past growing season, while preparing for another one forthcoming, yet still months away.  As the snow falls on lifeless stalks, some comfort is offered from sitting beside the fire, perusing catalogs and making wish lists to fill imaginary borders. Contemplations, however, always inevitably bring me back to last summer.  There were layers of foxgloves leaning into the morning sunlight, as they presaged blue hydrangeas sharing the heat of August with hibiscus and Joe-Pye Weed. There were afternoon thunderstorms for recollection, and when the rains had ended, fingers lingered with the fresh scent of passing over bountiful mounds of rosemary and lavender. Beans and tomatoes, strawberries, raspberries, quinces and apples were complimented by handfuls of basil and peppermint. Chorus after chorus of cicadas sang as the hollyhocks faded; they boasted that the sultry, hazy hours of years to come would promise their return. Then, there is the rustling of branches bent low.  The crackling weight of ice falls against a night sky neither shifting with Northern Lights nor parading tropical clouds in this hinterland of a very ill-tempered temperate zone. It is here, where winter always threatens to remain forever--where it never wants to give way to spring becoming summer--that I am forced to relent.  If it is true, more tears are shed from answered prayers, then surely this one petition is worth the lament: let glorious summer come again.