This is the time of year when I always start wringing my hands.
Is it too early?
Too late?
Did I plant things too deep? Too shallow? Too close together? Not close enough?
Will the peas climb? Did the squirrels grab all the seeds?
Every May, I feel like I’m already behind and also somehow rushing things. The weather shifts hourly. One day it’s summer, the next it’s February again. I plant, then worry. I don’t plant, then worry harder.
But… look.
The rows are in place. The irrigation is in. There’s mulch on the paths and green things in the beds. Tiny shoots. Straight lines. Visible progress.
The garden is starting to look like a garden.
I don’t have all the answers yet. I don’t know what will thrive, or what will bolt, or what I’ll inevitably replant twice. But I do know this:
I showed up.
I planted seeds.
And some of them are already growing, even if they all aren’t.
Maybe that’s enough for today.
What’s Next
- Direct-seed another round of greens
- Transplant the rest of the starts
- Try not to panic
- Keep going
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