Digging in Dirt and Rolling Down Grassy Hills

The weather is slowly but surely warming up. Spring is taking its rightful place as we bid winter good bye. I’ve always enjoyed the spring time. I’d say its easily my second favorite season after autumn.

So much about spring brings up a plethora of fond childhood memories. I should mention that the summertime shares these memories as well!

First off, there’s the crisp, earthy scent of freshly mowed grass!

Grass

I remember scooping up as many handfuls of just mowed grass that I could and making giant piles out of them. Sometimes, I’d build a little fort or a “fenced in” area of out of the mowed grass I collected.

Where I lived during my childhood, my back yard had a hill. The hill sloped just slightly and it was just right for tumbling down.

I didn’t care that I got my clothes all dirty with dirt and grass stains. I didn’t even care if I itched afterwards. Rolling down the hill was fun! And each time I tried to build up some momentum and roll a little faster. In school, during recess, I’d even roll down the grassy hill on the playground with other kids who thought it was fun as well.

Speaking of grass, another fond memory I have is picking a piece of wild garlic / wild onion and munching on it.

Gardens

Spring time signals the beginning of planting. Digging in the dirt and smelling its earthy aroma triggers another springtime childhood memory.

When I was little, we used to have a garden. It was a decent size garden at least in the eyes of a child. It had a little variety. Tomatoes, peas, carrots, bell peppers, cucumbers …

There were probably a few others that I’m just forgetting but those were the plants that I remember for sure.

I remember going outside to play and seeing my mom in the garden planting. As the spring months wore on and turned into summer, I watched her weed, water, and harvest. I’d help too.

I was especially fascinated by the carrots.

“They grow underground? How do you know when they’re ready?”

“We just give them time and we remember to check every so often,” she said.

I also learned that potatoes, onions, and radishes are other plants that grow underground.

I especially loved harvesting the garden. I had a red wagon that I’d take into the garden and load up. One by one, I’d pick the reddest tomatoes off the vine, pull off the biggest and greenest cucumbers I could find. The carrots I saved for my mom to pick because I was still iffy about harvesting them.

I filled my wagon as full as I could and once satisfied I hauled it back to the house. I felt proud of my accomplishment and hoped that mom would make a good dish out of all this. Soup perhaps!

The earthy scent of dirt brings up another childhood memory. Even more so when it rains and that dirt turns into mud.

Mud

When I was a kid, I enjoyed making mud pies. Sometimes I pretended that I was making pottery. Other times, some kind of culinary dish. I was even just satisfied to squish my hands in the mud. The feel of the cool mud between my fingers was kind of therapeutic. Even just digging in the dirt was too.

I am very much looking forward to the arrival of spring. It signals not just a new beginning but simple yet pleasant memories of being a kid just enjoying the springtime.

I am ready to dig in the dirt again. To feel the soft grass against my skin.

Hello, spring!