Sunshine driving the harsh chill from the air, the birds making their announcements, the days stretching out just a little longer before the sun sinks purple and pink into the marsh. Almost Spring, teetering on the cusp. I imagine everything green again. And we start talking about the garden. Chris says, hot peppers, pumpkins, tomatoes. I say, sunflowers, lettuce, peas, beans, cucumbers, carrots. We have some raised beds out back that will need new soil. Should we do any container gardening? Let’s make bean poles from driftwood! I wish we’d been composting. We’ll need a wheelbarrow. I haven’t grown a garden in six years. I picture Isabella watering the plants with her tiny watering can, picking strawberries, biting into ripe tomatoes. Warm sunshine, warm dirt. I cannot wait to get my hands in the dirt.