A half-dozen Valentine cards are scattered on my office desk, their vibrant hues and crimson envelopes gleaming like a guiding light on another dull mid-winter morning.
After a month of predominantly overcast days in January, with scarcely a single sunny interlude, many of us found ourselves yearning for a glimpse of sunlight. The memories of last summer’s extended dry spell, and its impact on agricultural yields, remain vivid in our minds.
We are thankful for the recent precipitation—be it rain, snow, sleet, or fog—which has replenished groundwater levels, rejuvenated stream flows, and nourished our winter crops, ensuring that our fields stay lush and green.
The emergence of red decorations and gifts for Valentine’s Day infuses a sense of joy and warmth into the bleak winter landscape, like flickers of brightness amidst the gray.
Venture into any retail establishment now, and you’ll be surrounded by an array of red-themed products and presents for the upcoming “holiday of love” (with the Easter Bunny not far behind).
In my quest for this cheerful color, I’ve started noticing the mundane items around my home and farm that provide a splash of red.
Our kitchen table is adorned with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth for most of the year, lending a cozy and inviting feel to the space. While a lighter pastel covering may grace the table in warmer months, the pop of red during the darker days enhances the welcoming ambiance of the kitchen.
The once vibrant red poinsettia plant from Christmas now appears worn and weary, having endured the constant traffic flow in the house. As I tidy up the fallen red and green leaves daily, I plan to relocate the remaining plant to the greenhouse for propagation.
On the kitchen windowsill sits a pot of maroon oxalis plants, a crimson variation of the typically green shamrocks popular during St. Patrick’s Day.
I had presumed that I had lost all my red-leafed plants, only to discover last autumn that a few red oxalis leaves had resurfaced in another houseplant pot, while their green counterparts had seemingly disappeared. Perhaps a stroke of luck will revive some of those lost “shamrocks” as well.
Near the lower yard stands the springhouse, where the subterranean spring emerges before embarking on its journey towards the Susquehanna River, the Chesapeake Bay, and eventually the vast Atlantic Ocean.
The wooden upper structure of the quaint stone springhouse has always sported a traditional “barn red” hue, accentuated by a small white door. Its periodic fresh coats of red paint contrast beautifully with the lush greenery of the surrounding lawn, the dark waters of the adjacent pond, and stand out strikingly against the backdrop of fresh snow in our backyard.
Closer to the house, overlooking the flower bed encircling the raised-bed garden, clusters of slender red blades sway in the breeze.
Among The Farmer’s numerous woodworking creations, the cardinal wind vanes, though slightly weathered, retain their vivid color and are in need of some refurbishment.
The red theme continues with the grapevine wreath adorning the front door, a remnant from the holiday season, accompanied by a porch flag spelling out “LOVE” in bold red and white letters. Both decorations add a festive touch and remain steadfast against the whims of the wind.
For an extra dose of uplifting red, I retreat to the greenhouse, where large pots of geraniums bloom resplendently even during the harshest winter days. The trimmed shoots, now rooting on a sunlit basement windowsill, promise new growth and vitality.
And perhaps the most enticing red of all in the days ahead will be the chocolate wrapped in its crimson packaging. Wishing all our readers a joyous Valentine’s Day!