The In-between Time

New Year’s Eve always feels like an in-between time in the year. Not really in the previous year, not really into the new one. Just one last quiet breath before we step into whatever comes next. Here in Central Texas, the air is still a little cool in the mornings, but you can feel that subtle shift of warmth coming. The light lingers just a touch longer. The forecast hints at more wind and sunshine. And the mailbox is suddenly full of seed catalogs.

There’s something reassuring about flipping through those glossy pages while the world is still resting. It’s a reminder that even in the in-between—after the chaos of the holidays and before the rush of spring—life is already stirring. The tomatoes, herbs, flowers, and odd little experiments we’ll try this year are all waiting in those pages, asking us to imagine what’s possible.

I love this moment because it’s low-pressure dreaming. No beds prepped yet, just whatever has been hanging on from earlier and the brassicas not sure if they are coming or going with this heat. No seedlings demanding attention. Just ideas, curiosity, and a warm mug in hand. I dog-ear pages, circle varieties I’ve never grown, and make little notes about what might feed us, what might delight the pollinators, and what might simply bring joy.

As the weather warms in the next few days, I’ll start sketching out the 2026 garden—purposeful, practical, and full of plants that earn their keep and a few new ones to widen our palates. But today? Today is for dreaming. For flipping pages and letting the year ahead feel limitless and full of possibility.

If your seed catalogs have started arriving too, I hope you take a moment to savor them. Try something new. If it works, yay! If it doesn’t, now you know and you learned something valuable in the process. This is the exciting beginning of the gardening year, and it’s one of my favorite thresholds.

Here’s to a warm, hopeful start to 2026.