waiting for spring

I was browsing through some gardening books to get ideas for perennial plantings and I got lost in the world inside them, among abundant flower beds with blooms in every color, and quiet shaded paths studded with daffodils and primroses so real I almost smelled the humid fragrance of the spring forest.
After long weeks of winter one starts to forget how extraordinary and effortless is nature’s flourishing dance into harvest: how many scents, how many colors, how overbearing the yield. A gardener’s heart gets restless, waiting for blooms yet unseen, longing for the fragrance that is always familiar but never the same.
Simply said, cabin fever. What is one to do with two more months of non cooperating weather? I guess it’s time to start plants from seeds.
I miss the bloom of roses, large and bright next to the tall spurs of delphiniums, the delicate but so resilient snapdragons that bloom faithfully in any weather, no matter how unseasonable. I miss the huge magnolias blending their perfume with that of the roses and peonies at the end of May. I miss the bright orange Siberian Wallflowers with their strong citrusy scent, who alone could fill a garden at the beginning of spring. If you had no other flowers, they would be enough, but they are always accompanied by daffodils painting the garden yellow and the magnificent indigo display of grape hyacinths. I miss the bright and healthy glow of fresh green leaves unfolding around blossoms of every hue.
I miss the aromatic herbs releasing intense fragrance at the end of hot summer afternoons when day slips into evening so fast. I miss waking up in the morning eager to see how much the eggplants have grown, or if any of the tomatoes started turning red, or if any fruit ripened on the raspberry canes. I miss the butterfly dance around the buddleia bushes and the intense magenta of the geraniums.
I miss weaving my way through the garden at night, accompanied by fragrance and the song of the nightingale, when light colored sweet pea flowers create the only dim glow. I miss the rainy mornings that cover flower petals with pearls.
I miss the intense yellow of the mums and the delicate panaches of goldenrods. I miss large bunches of stonecrops slowly changing color from chartreuse to pink, to ruby, to burgundy.
Where was I? O, yes. I need to start plants from seed for this year.