Snow is a good medium for the birth of a new year. All that whiteness blots out the past, and a virtual blank canvas awaits. We look for clarity and sharpness, and the possibilities that the new year may offer.
As with every new year, 2026 brings new priorities. Children grow up and out, careers expand and contract, and we continue to reinterpret ourselves. This ebb and flow of life has shaped the years leading up to the present. But one thing that to me remains constant outside the warmth of the home is the garden, frozen in temperature and time. But not for long. We comfort ourselves that spring will bring daffodils and the returning robins will be pulling worms from the ground. From then on, it’s one prolonged rebirth.
So, with this cycle comes my annual rite of resolution-making. After reading through the old promises – some held to and some not, I’m inclined to think with renewed optimism – here’s another chance! My mission this year includes:
Raising eco-consciousness: I am excited about raising awareness (my own as well as readers’) when it comes to protecting our environment. I take an interest in numerous groups from the Sierra Club to Friends of the Earth to World Wildlife Fund to EWG (Environmental Working Group), among others. My aim is to learn about threats to health and the environment and to find solutions. Green is perhaps an overused word today, but the concept still needs selling.
Covering all terrains: Part of my self-discovery of late is realizing I can succeed in garden projects I once found daunting, if not impossible. I recently undertook a project to outfit a home in the tropics (not mine) with plants suitable for the place and the occupants. It was an amazing undertaking and with my husband’s prodding, I accomplished the task, pretty much single-handedly. Now if I can do that, I can grow my own Globe artichokes!
Purging the shed overload: The shed, the shed, my kingdom for a tidy shed! It’s not a new plea, but the battle goes on. I must expunge unnecessary things from the garden shed, such as materials that have outlived their use – chemicals that have illegible packaging and broken hoses and such. My fear is that the minute I get rid of that scrap chicken wire, I will have a need for it.
Taking notes: Keeping a garden journal is a task that I actually look forward to, yet one I haven’t done with consistency. My excuse – a lame one – is that I am usually busy writing this, but truly there are many things that compete for my time. I’ve been slightly more attentive with the camera – but too often this is also done on the fly. Realizing this resolve may require slowing down in general.
Bee hiving: I’m persevering in this challenging hobby. My dad was a beekeeper so maybe I’ve got some hereditary flair for it. This is an area I like very much to learn more about – even though I’ve been attempting it for a decade. I have a hive at a farm in Fairhaven and, as of this year, put one at my parents’ home in Norfolk County. It will be interesting to contrast the two hives and the honey produced. To be productive, bees must have access to a succession of nectar and pollen plants from early spring to late fall.
Expansion (groan from my husband): I liken myself to Napoleon when it comes to expanding my gardens. Lawns that stand in the way will be divided and conquered. I have a campaign to convert a long portion against a hedge into gardens. One part is in semi-shade and has white ponds in the upper story. The other is open and sunny and leads out to my greenhouse. I emulate Scandinavian gardens and would like to incorporate a section that is natural woodland made up of evergreens and birches.
Writing on and on: Over the years as a writer, I’ve tested a variety of formats, ranging from travelogue to interview to feature to journal to reportorial. And that is how I hope to keep it: the proverbial box of chocolates, a little variety and mystery to bite into each week. As a former English major who disdained writing, I must admit it’s my oxygen now. It sounds strange to my own ears, but I look forward to this weekly column.
Whatever your garden plans and dreams are, I hope you achieve them this year. Don’t forget to enjoy your labor in the garden. As the Bard wrote in Troilus and Cressida, “Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.”
“The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” – Marcel Proust
The Seaside Gardener
By Laura McLean