My oldest son turned 16 yesterday. As we all had dinner and blew out the candles on the cupcakes, I thought back to when I was 16. My whole life, the entire world, was in front of me then. I knew that soon I would be driving a car, working, and later going to college, getting married, buying my first house, maybe babies . . . But on my 16th birthday none of those life-altering decisions were made. It was all just possible, just dreams, as it is today for my son.

Isn't the garden just like that in April—just like a carefree 16 year old? Certain morals, beliefs, ideas and personality traits are already in place, to be sure, but there is more potential than anything else. In the garden I can't help but hope, on April 1, that this is the year the hybrid tea roses will not succumb to blackspot. This will be the year my annuals and tomatoes will grow as big as those in the Miracle-Gro commercials. Maybe I will install that hedge to block the neighbor's view. Every spring is like being 16 again. Hope. Potential. And asking "Dad" for a bigger allowance for "hanging out and stuff"—but at the garden center and not the mall.

—Michelle Byrne Walsh