This time of year, I start to go through green withdrawal. I can already feel myself welling up with a desperate longing for warm weather, for the sweet smell of dirt and rain and chlorophyll and the sight of green life springing from the earth.
In the meantime, I can only hope to soak up winter sun through my kitchen window, nurture my indoor plants, and dream about my springtime gardening and lepidoptera-rearing plans.
To ease my withdrawal symptoms, today I took some stratified White birch seeds out of my fridge and planted them in a small pot. If I can manage to grow a potted White birch indoors, perhaps I will be able to take some Luna moth cocoons out of the fridge and let the moths eclose early (I can't let them eclose until I have ample supply of White birch and/or Black walnut leaves at hand). I'm not very hopeful about this, though. Even if I do get a sprout or two, the baby trees won't have enough leaves to feed hungry moth caterpillars, not for a very long time. Still, it's worth a shot.
Ach! This winter has been mild so far, but it's killing me nonetheless. I miss our sunsets by the Great Lake, I miss warm air, I miss the porch swing and my gardens and nighttime walks. Thank God for the Mitchell Park Conservatory; the domes will be my lifeline until the spring. That and my mini greenhouses, which (I hope) will be filled with seedlings in just a few more weeks.