Of weeds, my garden has plenty. It has been a wet winter in the Northwest after all.
And while there is no documented proof, my cottage must sit on ancient river bed. If that is not the case, then there is such a thing a stone seeds which, along with the weeds, nestle all winter long ready to germinate producing a fine fresh Spring crop. Each Spring, the Man of the Cottage says 'I'll hire the Grandson to remove the rocks from the flower beds'. And each year I remind him that such action would leave such holes we could not afford top soil to fill.
So it goes and the season changes to Spring. Slowly by slowly the weeds are removed, the larger stones are place in piles here and there.
As for seeds, happily my sweet peas for the season to come are in new beds, raised beds. I'm excited to see if blossom production will be up because of this new situation. Slug bait is spread. Wire screening is place to discourage the Garden Cat, She Who Diggeth - other wise known as Lucy Maud. (Yes, she is named after the author by name of Montgomery) Reports will follow on the progress of this planting and protecting effort.
As for hope, well I take the Biblical view of that which is certain, not the wishful thinking that is the worldly mindset. Seed time and harvest are promised to take place in proscribed rhythm. So in that I trust and delight.
Regarding frost, in this instance it refers to our nation's own poet Robert with lines of his evocative poem "Putting in the Seed".
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its ways and shedding the
Joyous seed time to all.