Planting the spring garden by the full moon is a tradition I look forward to every year. By the end of today, the asparagus was bursting through the dark soil, onions were blowing in the March wind, bush beans were winding around their stakes, and the waft of rosemary was intoxicating, mixing with the scent of basil and tomatoes. The peppers were plunged into the wet composted earth, broccoli and lettuce leaves were flapping like puppy dog ears, the corn stood erect like an army waiting to battle the hungry squirrels, and the cucumbers and sweet potatoes are ready to weave themselves through the garden like threads through a quilt.
Sunflower seeds planted last week, mixed with zinnias, moonflowers and four o'clocks are all peeking through the soil looking like rows of marching green ants.
Granny snoozed, Felix grazed, Bebe sunned and I dug my 'til my heart's content.
And, tonight, the full "worm" moon, illuminated the entire garden pulling it up by its roots to grow, grow, grow, grow.
fresh asparagus
white spears turn bright crispy green
tender tips tempting
bush beans spiraling
sweet onion bulbs underground
soil espresso rich
rosemary basil
sage parsley oregano
dill chives tarragon
ponderosa blooms
sunflowers, zinnias, four-o-clocks, moonflowers
bush beans climbing
Felix sneaking a bite of grass
Bebe just being Bebe
Granny soaking up the sun
The full Moon in March is known by many names: the Worm Moon, Sap Moon, Crow Moon, Crust Moon, Sugar Moon, and Lenten Moon. According to the Farmer's Almanac, the native tribes of what is now the northern and eastern U.S. named this the Worm Moon after the earthworm casts that appear as the ground thaws. The more northern tribes knew this as the Crow Moon, when the cawing of crows signaled the end of winter.
Other northern names are the Crust Moon, because the snow cover becomes crusted from thawing by day and freezing at night, or the Sap Moon as this is the time for tapping maple trees. Europeans called this the Lenten Moon.
