When Spring Blooms, Clear the Land and Plant Vegetables
March 13, the first day of the second lunar month: the willow tips are already a tender green, the early cherry has opened, and the wild grass on the ground has begun to sprout. Spring has come; it is time to clear the land and plant vegetables.
We set aside a whole afternoon to turn the soil in the vegetable plot. The day before had brought a thorough spring rain, so the soil in the plot had become much softer, no longer as hard to dig as the frozen soil of winter. We turned over the whole plot. Limited by our agronomic skill, we still could not prepare the fine, neat beds that others manage, but I am not demanding about such things; as long as the vegetables can be planted and can grow, that is enough. Last year we planted just as roughly, and the vegetables grew fine too.
After turning the soil, we set out some cauliflower, cabbage, and lettuce seedlings, and sowed seeds of leaf lettuce, pak choi, napa cabbage, malabar spinach, xiao you cai, and hao zi gan. We watered them lightly. We left a few beds empty for April planting of cucumbers, sword beans, loofah, tomatoes, and eggplants. An old fellow at the farm advised that the weather was not warm enough yet and the seedlings should be protected with plastic mulch. I am reluctant to use plastic products to pollute the environment; taking the attitude of letting nature take its course and harvesting whatever comes, I didn't bother—at worst the seedlings freeze to death and I plant something else.
Having lain dormant for a whole winter, it was good to get out and work. This spring's smog is severe; because I have a chronic respiratory condition, on smoggy days I feel chest tightness and chest pain. To escape the smog, I have spent almost every day this period in my study, running an air purifier to keep the indoor air good; working, reading, writing, and exercising all happen indoors. Fortunately I have a pile of books and plants to keep me company, plus the guqin and the Buddha, so I am not lonely.
I don't know how the economy is this year; I only sense by intuition that people's livelihood is hard, that some people seem to be having an even harder time than last year, especially families with sick members, and some impoverished patients are giving up treatment. Life in the unpredictable natural world is very hard; I also don't know when misfortune will fall on my own head. As long as I am still safe and healthy for now, I will cherish it. Gardening brings me much joy; the plot is not yet up for renewal, and I still have over a hundred days of pleasant idyllic life to live, so I'll live these hundred days well first. What happens after a hundred days—we'll talk about it then.
Working in the vegetable plot, I wore short sleeves and still sweated a lot. Turning soil by pure human power is heavy labor; after sleeping one night, my whole body was still sore when I got up. Su Shi was in our hometown of Huanggang, and Tao Yuanming at the foot of Mount Lu (only a river away from Huanggang); both are said to have farmed about ten mu of land. It is truly remarkable that a literary man could do such heavy physical work. Country life looks beautiful, but if one actually goes down to work the fields, many people would complain bitterly. But when one is tired of other ways of life and loves farming, one can bear this bit of hardship. After all, compared with spiritual suffering, this physical weariness is nothing.
The years have worn smooth my heart, taking away the fiery restlessness of my youth. My dreams remain, and one might say they have not changed one bit, but my patience is much better than before. I no longer expect to realize my dreams in the short term, nor do I hope to see a clear new world soon. I am willing to spend all the rest of my life realizing my dreams; if that is not enough, that is all right too—there will always be latecomers on the road to the ideal. The farmer's faith is simple and plain; the earth makes us believe that if we patiently clear and sow, the earth will not treat the hardworking farmer meanly. I have no doubt of this.