This week the sun has been brilliant and the air warm, and we decided it was time to get going on the garden. I've had misgivings all month about the work ahead of us. It's a big job, and this year—and if I'm honest, the last few years too—I've wondered if I still have it in me. I worried that something I'd loved for decades might no longer be enjoyable. The idea of falling out of love with the garden made me so sad.

We've always promised ourselves that when gardening stops being easy, we won’t push ourselves. Still, it was hard to ignore the overwhelming weeds. I wasn’t looking forward to all the bending, and I wished I hadn’t let things get so out of hand. I also wasn’t happy about my husband digging the beds.

We could hire people to do the worst of it, but for us gardening has always meant handling the good with the bad—the fun along with the not-so-fun. Still, a sunny day, an empty calendar, and a handful of pretty seed packets were enough to change my mind.

After planting myself in a particularly weedy spot with an audiobook in my ears, I started with no particular enthusiasm—just one weed, then another. But somewhere along the way the familiar rhythm returned, and I thought, oh yes…this is why I love it.  My hands moved almost on their own and my mind grew quiet. It’s a kind of garden meditation, and it felt so good to have my gardening mojo back.

I'm happy to say I'm looking forward to another gardening year, and I hope you'll come along with me. It's still early in the season and there’s a lot of growing left to do.