Today, brilliant shafts of winter sun held captive in the cobalt glass on the windowsill were enough to prod me out of my cocoon to venture into the garden in search of signs of new growth. I was able to gather Brussels sprouts lightly nipped by Jack Frost, and sweetened to perfection. Try parboiling or lightly steaming these for ten minutes, then cut them in half. Sauté in garlic and extra virgin olive oil (or butter if you are able to not be weight conscious) until tender, browned and just a little crusty. And if, like me, you have always said you didn’t like Brussels sprouts, try them once again fixed this delicious way.

The dark green spikes of Naked Ladies and crocus are putting out feelers, checking out the cold winter air. Not blooming yet, but alive with the promise of spring. Daffodils begin to appear in gardens throughout the town. I should get out and spray the fruit trees with a special winter oil to kill unwelcome guests who lie within. I need to get this done before new blossoms emerge into the cool winter air. And, I must update my seed exchange list and put it on the Internet. That’s such a fun way to share the excess seeds that you have, and to broaden your own plant list. I must pay attention to the news and be alert for frosts, so I can rush out to cover my tender perennials. If your pond freezes over, try to refrain from pounding on the ice to break it. Shock waves can kill the fish like a giant sonic boom. Take a pan of boiling water and place it on the surface of the ice (just don’t let go or you will be fishing for your pan) and this will melt a hole. You can gently lift out chunks of ice if you repeat this in a few strategic places.

January is a mix of dark thunder clouds, lashing rains, and hail. Then out from the darkness there appears a “blue hole,” a reminder that the sun is still up there, only hiding for the duration. Soft mists and fogs shroud the garden and the pines that line the fence-line, dance their rhythmic shuffle, in and out through the fog. A dog barks in the distance, muffled, and muted. The air is still, but the calendar is fat and a whole new year awaits us. What wonders, what sorrows it will bring remain unknown. All we can do it to set our best foot forward, travel on down the road, and dream our way to bigger and better things.