We’ve been dealing with dreary skies and rainy days here in Pennsylvania, but as I sit down to write this letter to you, the sky is clear blue. There isn’t a cloud in sight. So, as soon as I sign off, I’m heading outside to soak up as much sun as I can and drink great big gulps of cold, fresh air.

Our head homesteader, James and I were saying the other week that we can’t wait for spring foraging. He’s looking forward to the hedgerows greening up and providing berries across the pond. I’m looking forward to my favorite time of year to forage.

I grew up in upstate NY, so spring was never all that impressive to me. It seemed like the season could be summed up in one word – mud. Then I moved to Pennsylvania 17 years ago. My first spring here took my breath away. 

Then the forsythia started blooming, and then it seemed as though the entire state erupted in crocus, daffodils and tulips. Pennsylvania certainly changed my mind about spring.

Then I started checking out all the wonderful things you can forage here in the spring, and I was sold. 

And the best part is, I don’t have to wait for spring. Since the snow has melted (what little we got), I’ve noticed garlic mustard popping up beneath the leaves on the forest floor.

After a winter of heavy foods, there’s nothing so wonderful as those first bites of something fresh and green, especially if you picked it in the woods yourself.

No matter what Punxsutawney Phil predicts this February 2nd, I think I’ll be okay as long as I can keep picking fresh greens to nibble.