best of times

I am in the midst of a weekend devoted to gardening. It has been so long since I really took time to get grubby and sweaty from pulling weeds and digging in the dirt. This is the best of times – bright, not too hot, few bugs. Everything is fresh, green, and blooming beautifully.

The kitchen garden's inhabitants are growing rampantly. The peas that were only a couple of inches tall a few weeks ago, are climbing over their fence. Once budding roses and clematises along the parameter are in full bloom, and tiny lettuce seedlings are becoming vigorous heads.

We installed a fountain in the kitchen garden using an old soapstone sink we bought from the university's surplus sale some years ago and a found rusty old pipe. It is quite magical. Therefore our old adirondack chairs are now moved to the center circle to be on hand for quiet celebrations.

spring

Finally. The sun is out, the air feels balmy, there are birds chirping everywhere, and the maple tree's spent blossoms are littering the streets. Spring is here.

There are no memories of winter left in the garden either. Everything is competing to see what can burst first. My favorite tree – the star magnolia – is in full bloom, its white petals fluttering in the wind.

The daphne is covered in blooms with an infatuating scent. Then there are hellebores, still looking downwards but ready to go.

The lanky camelia is positioned between two windows along the driveway, where nobody can enjoy its picture perfect flowers. I frequently snip some of them, to brighten up the window sill in my studio.

snow story

Here is our back yard, slightly skewed, by the panoramic view, but nevertheless in its full winter glory. Note were the snow is still lingering – in the kitchen garden – which is supposed to be the sunniest and warmest spot of all. Not any more. The neighbor's trees has grown taller by the years, so part of our potagér barely gets any sun at all. That's were the blueberries now roam... This spring the garden will move up the hill, with two new raised beds to make room for the sun loving treats.

resilience

We've been covered in snow for so long. I am afraid to discover the damage that's been done to the garden. But today the sun is out, and there is a hint of spring in the air. Look what I discovered during my walk-about. The star magnolia almost ready for bloom, stringy witch hazel flowers spreading their heady scent, and the ever cheerful winter aconites. Nature's resilience is encouraging.

snow cover

Snowfall coated the garden this weekend. It took the fairy roses by surprise. Maybe the garlic finally will stop its rampant growth...

raspberry rescue

Several years ago I planted some red raspberry plants along our back fence, envisioning a glorious raspberry patch basking in the sheltered sunshine producing an abundance of delicious berries for my morning breakfast. Well, the raspberries are now overtaken by rambling grape vines, full grown mulberry trees, and stubborn trumpet vines. The berry canes are slowly suffocating and harvesting them has become an impossible task.

This morning I bundled up, fueled myself with coffee, and set out on operation raspberry rescue. Just finding the remaining canes were a challenge, but I managed to dig out five healthy and still happy plants. They were transfered to the two shady beds in the kitchen garden where I am hoping they will have a somewhat easier existence. Once in place I realized they are the true ever bearing variety - several of them still had blooms and immature fruits.

garden tidbits

Frayed beauty. Wonder where you have been?

Late summer roses, somewhat ragged too.

Fall crocuses nestled in weeds.

French beans in the garden.

Lamb's ears, oh so soft.

Thriving nasturtiums.

Spider lilies in full bloom, everywhere. Now they brighten my home.