As the long Danish winter finally draws to an end, it’s time for Danes to start planting their gardens.

Now, in early April, it’s rhubarb, parsnips, cabbage. After the risk of frost is gone, in late April, you can put down some beets, and chives, and parsley – all good traditional Danish food.

By May, you can try with the tomatoes, which may or may not ripen depending on whether you get a warm, sunny summer, always a roll of the dice in Denmark. One year we ended up with hard, green tomatoes in September.

Short growing season

The growing season in Denmark is short. If you miss the planting deadlines, you’re probably out of luck.

And even if you are in luck, the amount you spend at the garden center will far outstrip the amount it would take you to buy the same foods at the corner market.

But Danes love to garden, they love to touch the Earth. Denmark industrialized fairly late compared to the rest of Europe – really not until the late 19th century – and even then it focused on cooperative agriculture for export. Denmark is still known around the world for its butter and bacon.

The "gaard" is the family farm

Many Danes still carry the name of their family farm in the name they use today.

The Danish word for farm is “gaard”, so the names of jewelry designer Ole Lynggaard, or golfer Nicolai Højgaard, or politician Pia Kjærsgaard, all reference what was once the family farm, the “gaard”.

This love for nature why weather is always an appropriate topic of conversation among Danes. They’re also very good at historical weather. They’ll tell you that the rains this April are just like the rains of April 2014, or that we haven’t seen this type of wind since the summer of 2006.

Colony gardens

If you live in Denmark with a house in the suburbs with – parcel houses, they’re often called – you have lots of room for gardening. But people who live in apartments often have what is called “colony gardens.”

Colony gardens are a little patch of land set aside in the cities, or near them, for urban residents to have a garden. They usually build a little house on the plot as well, although you’re only allowed to live there during the summer. The electricity and the water usually get switched off during the winter.

The houses are generally wooden, small, cramped, and a little thrown-together. There are often chipped plates and glasses, old chairs with cushions in a grandmotherly fabric, a few board games ready for rainy days. A flag pole and a big Danish flag to put up for holidays. And always, always, they are surrounded by a hedge for privacy.

The colony gardens are run by an association, so you’re supposed to be friends with your neighbors, but keep them at a distance. Good fences make good neighbors and all that.

Getting a colony garden requires either buying one or getting on a long, long list to get one, which means that very few of the 15% non-ethnic Danish residents of Denmark have colony gardens. As I mentioned in an earlier podcast, the list of residents tends to look like the 1957 Copenhagen phone book.

The Unity Garden

In my Copenhagen neighborhood, which is extremely diverse, there was initiative to change this a few years ago. A little bit of land freed up by the railroad tracks, and the idea was to create a Unity Garden. Half of the land was set off for people who were not born in Denmark, and half was set off for people who were.

The idea was to meet up, work together, exchange knowledge, have summer picnics, meet across cultures.

Read more at howtoliveindenmark.com

Gækkebrev are a great Danish tradition, but like many other Danish traditions, they are fighting to survive amid the country’s ambitious digital agenda.

What is a gækkebrev, or gække letter? A single piece of paper, cut into a lace-like design somewhat like a snowflake, sent anonymously in the days before Easter.

A poem is handwritten on the letter, but it is unsigned...except for a number of dots that correspond to the number of letters in the sender's name.

If you can guess who sent the letter, that person owes you a chocolate Easter egg. If you can't guess, you owe them a chocolate Easter Egg whenever they reveal themselves.

Needless to say, gækkebrev are very popular with small children looking for candy.

(The "gække" refers to a vintergække flower that used to accompany the letter back in the day)

But the tradition is slowly dying out, thanks to Denmark's widespread digitalization. Paper letters have almost disappeared; it's quite possible to go for months without receiving any physical mail at all.

Stamps and coins are also dying out. While Denmark got a new king more than a year ago, I've yet to see his image on any stamps or coins...because I so rarely see stamps or coins.

Read more at howtoliveindenmark.com.

Fastelavn is one of the Danes’ favorite holidays. It takes place in February, when the light is finally beginning to come back after a long season of winter darkness. "Hitting the cat in the barrel" - which used to involve a real cat, but no longer does - and eating messy fastelavn buns full of custard are part of the holiday.

What's no longer really part of the holiday is its religious background, the idea that this is a party that takes place before the long lockdown of Lent.

Kept the party, dumped the religion

The Danes have kept the party while stripping away its source, much like the non-firmations some Danes choose over confirmations, or the "namegiving ceremonies" that have replaced baptisms in some circles.

I once read that the safer a society is, the less likely it is to be religious. The more comfortable and secure people are, the less likely they are to turn to a higher power to sort things out.

That’s certainly true in Denmark.

They find religious faith strange

The majority of Danes find religious faith strange, and perhaps a sign of ignorance or moral weakness. I have had Danes tell me that believing in God is like believing in Santa Claus.

They’ll go to church on Christmas Eve, or for a wedding, or maybe a funeral.

But if you tell Danes that you go to church on a regular basis because you like it, they will suddenly become very suspicious, and maybe a little angry.

They may assume you have backward views, that you don’t like gay people, perhaps that you believe that women should be subservient.

Or maybe that you don’t drink alcohol, which is a serious charge in Denmark.

Read more at howtoliveindenmark.com