The first sign of spring for me is the start of the gardening season. It’s not the right time for the outdoor garden season quite yet, but our window benches have once again been filled with fresh baby herbs.
When I was maybe 9, I used to be obsessed with herbs. I spent long summers in our summer cabin with my grandparents. The place didn’t have running water, but I had a kayak, endless freedom only to be broken with tiny chores and errands and a big herb garden. I would read my grandma’s books on different herbs history and how they were used in the antique world. The first book my mom sent from Finland to Denver was the same book about the history of herbs I don’t even have to read to recall long sentences from the book. I was not able to find any information about the book in English, but here’s an article about the author, in Norwegian. It takes a lot of effort to understand the language based on my knowledge in Swedish, but at least the pictures are pretty.
Our summer cabin herb garden would try to mimic rather an English freeform garden than medieval, geometric monastery gardens. My favourite was always thyme. I would add it everywhere, from pot roast to hot chocolate. It still has a special place in my heart.
And no, I still haven’t washed the windows. I still like the light through the dust, but my mom is going to come visit in less than two weeks so I will have to.