Within a day or two -- if the weather holds well -- they should be a riot of color!
When I threw open the back door this morning, after a long, gentle rain shower, it was the deep, rich combination of Lily of the Valley and spring grass and dirt. It felt profoundly alive.
My neighbor's garden is ablaze with purple alium. I have a few, too, where Rosie's seeds have hopped the fence. I hope to harvest them this year and be able to see more next spring.
The hosta garden is coming along. Some of the leaves have been eaten by deer or perhaps bunnies. They also nailed some of the impatiens but all will come back. I planted a few summer bulbs out there which may or may not yield a bloom this year. Well, there's always next year!
I hung a bird bell for the jays and other birds on a tree in the back. Looking out of my office window I note that Bushy the Squirrel has co-opted it for his own.
His body is extremely flexible!
This position reminds me of the first time I saw game hanging by its feet in Harrod's food hall in 1973. Fortunately, Bushy is still with us.
Yesterday I went out to shoot some photos and he and I had quite a chat. I reminded him the bird bell was for the birds, too.
I don't think he cared.
The rain has loosened my clay dirt a bit, I think. Perhaps now I can dig a little more, plant a little more. It has been a losing battle. Meanwhile, it's all in pots, waiting to be distributed to their rightful home, whether that is at the cottage, at Rick's or in my yard. There are a few yard flowers -- some of which just happened!
"Steve's Iris" is glorious. I love irises, as they remind me of my Aunt Iris. My former boss, Steve, who passed several years ago, was quite a gardener and gave me some of these. Only one seems to bloom - but it blooms gloriously!
The herb garden is over-producing oregano and the thyme is thick. Time to do some cutting to dry.
Every day in springtime seems to be a little bit of a miracle, filled with color, fragrance and renewal.
Life is good.