Winter's Garden

My father says the most beautiful gardens are grown in January. When the ground is frozen and your mind is aching for color. Seed catalogs arrive. You daydream about raspberries, lavender, and summer squash. When the air is warm. When the earth is soft and rich. This is where my mind is. Winter feels so long. So unrelentingly gray that I wish I could take a nap until the birds return.