At times it seems as if time itself is searching for itself. I stand in the center of the garden, wondering what season is this? I know the month, snow still falls, the ground is so wet, but the earth is so warm, the heads of spring plants are barely visible through the soil, yet I dream, I wish for the jewel tones of my garden to dance around me and fill me with a gardener’s delight. But I know this to be the age of Aquarius still! The cold chills of Climate change, make themselves known, as if answering my wish for a garden full and lush. But these symptoms I fear to see, as much as I dislike winter, my garden needs its goodnight sleep — little clarity here for the plants that awake at this hour, between winter and Spring.