My gardening mojo that is; my gardening wherewithal or my gardening oomph, if you prefer. I distinctly remember seeing it just before Christmas – if only fleetingly.
To be honest we’ve not been constant companions these past few weeks.
And then during Christmas and barrelling through into the New Year, we seem to have parted company altogether.
I’ve had little appetite for getting mud on my boots and dirt under my finger nails. Little inclination to wield my secateurs and brandish my digging fork.
But now there is a huge amount of gardening to do. Work has been piling up. And for a professional gardener the loss of his (or her) gardening mojo is a problem. Without it, it has proved impossible to get motivated; to pull myself up by my bootstraps and knuckle down to some good honest, mucky graft.
But then, today, after some persistent stormy weather, there was some, well, there was some light. That light. That sunlight of mid winter. Low and sharp and dazzling, shooting long thin shadows out across the lawns. And do you know what? It helped me find my mojo. Wet, bedraggled and deflated maybe (and skulking behind a gooseberry bush) but I found it. Yay!
And all of a sudden the world seems a fine and grand place once again. With my mojo back (and safely stashed in my back pocket) I want to garden again. I need to garden again.
I’m raring to go.
