Skip to main content

The springtime garden

Is it only me or has winter been going on way too long? It's almost enough to make me long for summer once again. Almost, but not quite.

A much better alternative is spring and this week it seems as though spring is returning to my garden. And not a moment too soon!

Nothing says "spring" quite like sweetly fragrant hyacinths. These bloom in a pot beside my front entry door.


Well, the little Leucojum snowflakes run the hyacinths a close second in the spring department. I do love these little bulbs. One of the things that I love best about them is that they are so easy to grow.

All around the garden, the shrubs and trees are beginning to put out green buds.

 New growth from a mahogany Esperanza planted last year.


Yellow cestrum bloomed right up until the mercury dipped to 20 degrees Fahrenheit in January. Then it lost all its leaves, but now it is putting on new growth. Soon it will be blooming again.


Likewise, the almond verbena was blooming until our first spell of really cold weather hit. Now it is coming back.


The pomegranate, too, is well on its way.

Some of the shrubs started early and are already blooming.


 The blueberries, for example.


 And the loropetalum is covered in its fuchsia blossoms.


I finished pruning the last of my roses today. Some of the plants that I pruned first - a couple of weeks ago - already have flower buds. Here, 'Darcy Bussell.'


 A pot of dianthus offers its cherry red blossoms from a pot on the patio.


 And on the back porch, this sunny yellow kalanchoe brightens things.


These pansies were the only blooms I had in the garden for several weeks. Now they have competition from other plants, but they continue to make me smile.

Even the birds know that spring is almost here. Many of our winter visitors have already flown, as I wrote yesterday, but their place is being taken by birds that wintered farther south.

The American Robins have arrived. I love listening to their songs.

And in the backyard, the female Eastern Bluebirds are investigating likely places for building their nests.

Yes, spring is coming. Even if all my weeding isn't done and all my plants haven't been pruned. Even if all the plants I had planned to move to new beds are still in their old beds. Inexorably, spring approaches and somehow everything that really needs to be done will finally get done. Fingers crossed.
Labels:

Comments

  1. AndreaFebruary 26, 2014 at 9:23 PM

    Hi Dorothy, when spring arrives in temperate climes, my tropical colors are forgotten by my temperate-living friends. You have a lot of colors ready to emerge simultaneously. When i saw pansies and snowdrop for the first time, i was so smitten that i always look for them in blogs!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersFebruary 26, 2014 at 10:43 PM

      Pansies and leucojum are particular favorites of mine, too, but my garden can never compare for color with your Philippine garden!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
19 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...
6 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
24 comments
Read more