It’s January 5th. A layer of cold, airy snow blankets the ground outside. The clouds hang low and thick, shrouding the first-quarter moon that should be glowing in the frigid, still night. It’s quiet outside. The fresh snow eagerly slurps up the sounds usually littering the night air. The snow squeaks quietly underfoot, and the soft breeze nips indiscriminately at the tips of one’s ears – if they venture outdoors without a hat, that is. Inside, though, it’s a different story.

It may only be five days since the New Year’s Tradition, but clearly that has been long enough for a few of my seeds. Tonight, I have five new babies to care for. Four of these five are seeds that I’ve saved from previous years’ crops: three Romas and one Mortgage Lifter. The fifth sprout – a Brandywine – is from a packet.

These first sprouting seedlings bring with them New Chores for the New Year. They bring the chores of watering, and of weeding. They bring the chore of transplanting. They bring the chores of vigilance, of planning, and of sorting. But they also bring excitement. They carry with them – as they push their tiny heads through the warm, moist soil – the hopes of a new Growing Season. They carry with them a little bit of spring. I may have lots of winter still to brave, but I also have a job to do now. I have plants to tend, and gardens to plan. I have daydreams of hot sunshine, and of fast-moving summer storms. I have memories of the smell of freshly dug dirt. And I have a distraction from the cabin-fever that would otherwise be overwhelming. I have five tiny tomato plants growing happily in my basement tonight. And I, yet again, have a smile in my heart.

Happy Sprouting!