Cabin Fever

We are in the middle of an epidemic here in Michigan. It is cabin fever and it is the worst outbreak we've seen in years.

Snow covers the ground but it is old, dirty snow so it isn't pretty to look at. We wander from window to window, lifting the heavy shades or parting the lined drapes hoping to see even a small sign of spring.

We are hungry for green, growing things. We would wear perfume called Eu de Cut Grass if they made such a thing and around here it would be better than pheromones. We are planning our 2010 garden and have dogeared several pages in the seed catalog. Mom found a source for Castor bean seeds which have become hard to find, so that order is filled out and ready to be mailed on Monday.

There is a stark beauty to the winter landscape here on our tree lined corner although we are so used to seeing it we sometimes forget to really look. The evergreens Bob planted about 25 years ago are bright splotches of green against the stark brown, black and grey of the deciduous tree trunks. The different textures and colors of tree trunks become more apparent in winter and some people, like Bob, can identify a tree by its bark. In our yard, snow clings to the bark and blankets the boughs and there it is clean and white.

The garden, on close inspection, has a few surprises. The cabbage stalks left to overwinter are still a deep, dusky green. Dusty miller, too, is still green and seems to have antifreeze in its leaves. Sometimes it will return to life in the spring but that is hard to believe right now. In fact, it is hard to believe the frozen solid earth will ever yeild to a shovel.

In November, I brushed the snow from the broccoli and made a salad from the florettes I cut. It was milder tasting broccoli than in the heat of summer and since it was unexpected, it felt like a special treat.

We will go for a walk today in the cemetery. There is little traffic and it is so quiet there. The exercise, and the cold air, will help dispel the cabin fever, we hope.