I'm coming into my ‘busy season' again and I'm starting to feel the vigor that comes with warmer weather. The smell of freshly tilled earth, warm sunshine and the return of the robins and birdsongs in the air—all harbingers of the season—also tend to bring me out of my doldrums. Spring didn't officially begin until March 20, but it's been here ‘unofficially' for a couple of weeks now, at least in my mind.

Although I complained when the clock changed over, that is one of the things that helps make it feel more like spring. With the extra hour of daylight in the evening, I'm able to get a few things done after getting home from work. It's amazing what one little hour of sunshine can do for the spirit.

There's something about going to work in the dark and heading home in the dark that makes life seem more dull and dreary. The opposite effect is attained through being out in the sunshine, even for an hour a day.

One of my main focuses this time of year is the garden. After last year's lack of a spring garden, I was pleased to get one planted. The last of last year's produce has passed away and I recently unplugged the freezer for a spring-cleaning. I hope to be filling it up soon with trout and a bountiful spring harvest.

The freezer didn't get quite the stocking it normally would have last year, since most crops were in short supply and I spent more time building than fishing. I figure on changing that this year. As for the garden, some of the foods we enjoy growing, like lettuce, greens, onions, peas, radishes, turnips, carrots and beets, need an early start in order to do well. The greens are one of my favorites. Spinach, mustard, kale and turnip greens are probably not considered a delicacy for most people, but I've always held them in high regard. Greens taste better if they are grown in the cool months. Things tend to get tough and bitter in the summer sun and insects also are more active as the year goes on.

Between the bugs and the unknown garden bandit, which munched a few cabbages and pulled down several ears of corn, I lost quite a bit last season. Of course, the drought took an even heavier toll. It made everything weaker and more likely to succumb to the attacks of both the four-legged and the six-legged.

This year I'm going to build a few live traps to help take care of the critter. I was reminded that I had the intention of doing the same thing last year. The road to failure is paved with good intentions. I can remember building box traps when I was a kid and using them to catch rabbits and an occasional surprise. An unusual catch was a field mouse; a less pleasant surprise capture was a skunk. I'm hoping to let the kids help with the effort, so I'm sure we won't be eating any rabbits like I did as a child. The last ones I caught in the garden ended up being set free.

Gardens usually start off well, but all too often the weeds get a foothold and won't let go. That's especially true as the year goes on and I find other things to occupy my time. Once the weeds get big, it's hard to pull them out without hurting the good plants.

Anyway, I started off last week by borrowing a friend's tiller, which is at least twice the size of my own. Needless to say, I've been suffering from tiller envy. His is more like a tractor without a seat than a tiller, really. As I ran it through the soil, it exposed the roots of grasses that have been hiding under the soil since last season, awaiting their opportunity to grow. My own tiller does a fine job at going between rows and most common jobs, but my friend's is better at pulverizing the remains of last year's gardening efforts and breaking up the soil. It also digs much deeper and covers a wider area, both big benefits first thing in the spring.

After getting that first part done, my family and I marked off a few rows with the wheel plow, guided by two sticks and a long piece of wire, and dropped in our seed and all of our hopes of a fine harvest. So hopeful was I that I went ahead and started a few red potatoes and leftovers from last year. I'll do my main planting after Good Friday. So far the weather has been much improved this year. We've had ample rain in March and I hope it continues. Even so, I saw a figure that shows that this area is still more than 10 inches below on rainfall since January 2007. I guess we've a ways to go to get over the drought. But that's all water under the bridge now, or should I say water not under the bridge?

One thing's for sure, if the rain doesn't come, there's not much I'll be able to do about it. As men we can prepare the soil and plant the seeds, but it's up to one greater than us to provide the increase. Planting, growing and harvesting are important in both the physical and spiritual realms. That's why I think gardening is so much a part of many of us here in these mountains. It teaches us to be patient, to be mindful of the consequences of both action and inaction and to be the caretaker of what we've been given.

In reality, that's all we really are is caretakers. Because in the end, there's not much we can take along with us and not much we leave behind that isn't erased by the ravages of time.

No, our work here is temporary in nature, that of a hired hand working another's land, sharecroppers in time.

Even so, there's something about tilling up the soil that gives a person hope for the future. I suppose just knowing that we have something to which we can look forward is a form of hope. Without hope, there is nothing.

I, like my father before me, have always enjoyed watching the world return to life each year from its winter slumber. Each time I watch with the same wide-eyed amazement as stark dead limbs bring forth brightly colored buds and bare dirt sprouts lush flowers. I see spring as an annual miracle that never loses its appeal. How is it possible for a tiny dry seed to sprout into a huge plant? No matter how it works, it never ceases to amaze me.