Now is the time we worry and wait.
Will the long row of English peas yield more than a quarter cup? Are those zinnia sprouts or baby lemon balm?
Seeds pressed into soil with confidence last week, or scattered with abandon last fall, remain coy, giving few hints of the beauty or bounty that soon will burst from rows and beds.
Even full-fledged plants dug in a year or more ago are vexing the most confident among us.
Vicky, who presents as self-assured in the high-maintenance thicket of hybrid roses that skirts her front porch and takes a live-or-don’t approach to the xeric stretch between sidewalk and street, is sick about her rhubarb.
The exuberant patch punctuates a sunny raspberry bed near her garage, but this year, for the first time since she planted it, she noticed the stalks aren’t tinged with ruby. What makes this season different is that the crop is promised to friends with culinary aspirations and no planting space.
Vicky has nothing to worry about. Her rhubarb is a sweet green variety, perfect as it has finally revealed itself to be. Dana Coffield, The Denver Post
