I thank my friend and fellow writer, Alan Humason, for sharing his poem (above) with me and for graciously allowing me to feature it on my blog this morning.

I had been digging in the dirt, cleaning out last year's dead garden clutter and working up the soil for planting when I came to the house for a sit-down break at my computer. During my time in the garden, Alan had sent me his poem.

Later, Alan told me that he and his wife Pam (Eimers) had been planting a garden. I don't know the full inspiration behind the words, but I do know that the words reflect a myriad of universal thoughts as we all return to our own plot of earth each spring to dirty our hands in launching garden life and to begin a new chapter of planning, hope, promise and supreme culinary delight.

As for Alan, he's a gifted writer who lives in California. His wife Pam is a longtime teaching friend of mine. Pam and Alan met while working on staff at Sunset Magazine.

Pam and the Love family endured the beginning unknowns of the Mount St. Helens volano ash fallout on May 18, 1980. The ash came to Sandpoint, and nobody knew for a few days if it was safe to travel, so for those first hours, Pam stayed with us and later drove to her home a couple of miles away.

Pam will be interested to know that the Love family (maybe even yours truly) will climb Mt. St. Helens this summer.

And, Pam is the recipient of Love family Christmas cookies---they could be at least 25 years old this year, and they're stuffed away in a cannister in the Love house as they've been passed back and forth between households over the years.

I have promised to give the cookies to Pam and Alan's son Kyle when he graduates from high school. I think I have two years to search through the moving boxes to find them. If I don't, I'm sure Kyle won't miss them.

Anyway, Alan, thanks for your beautiful and apt poetic thoughts as we begin our spring projects.

More photos from a spring day at the Lovestead appear below.