These Gorgeous Days

Ah, Spring.

Peace.

Who knew?

Who knew that spider plants have flowers? Not me.
This one surprised me this morning.

Who knew that a magnolia could make just one blossom?
This one on our tree opened this morning.
There are no other buds on the tree even close to blossoming.

Okay. I have no "who knew" for this one.
Maybe: Who knew my point-and-shoot could take such a nice close-up of a peach blossom?
These are the first on the tree to open this year.

Grape bud.

Peace.

A Splash of Color: Pink

magnolia bud

peach blossom bud

peony rising

Spring is just beginning to unfold here in the garden.

Peace.

A Delicate Dance

frost on a spiderweb in the morning light

Peace.

Wherever You Hang Your Hat

Last year when I was doing a major landscape redesign, turning most of my yard into garden, I purposely pruned the forsythia to create a little cove underneath for children to play in. Literary and cinematic memories, perhaps mixed with some blurry ones of my own childhood, had me imagining my girls using the spot for a dinosaur cave, a prairie house, an oceanfront restaurant, and many other kid-hide-out games. For some reason, maybe because there were so many other new sights to discover in our now nearly lawn-less yard, this forsythia fort never took hold.

Now, suddenly, this Spring, it has been discovered by the first grader in our house. She is so excited about it that our usually late sleeper is often the first one up and dressed, and she's out in the fort from right after breakfast until it's time to leave for school. She told me yesterday after school that she is even writing about it. When I opened her pack last night, I found this inside.





Of course, she figured out yesterday that her big sister wants to be a part of things, too, and that imaginative play is more fun when they play together. Sometimes, though, it's a retreat for one. And here is where I found her this morning.





Where do you go for a moment's stillness? Where do you call home?




Peace.

Spring Flowers

photo by Beth Arnold

I love this photograph. It captures the way this sudden sunniness is making me feel.



And now, to get outside.






Peace.

Life in Bloom

Yesterday after school, the 7yo went to play at a friend's house, so the 9yo and I headed over to the library to pick up Calling on Dragons, the book she'd requested. After we picked it up and put in a request for another book, The Silver Door, she asked me if we could go to the greenhouse. I realized it was within walking distance, so we headed over. As we were walking over, I remembered that they have an annual bulb show at this time of year. Sure enough, when we got there, there were beautiful flowers everywhere. And unlike most times when I've been, where you have to fight the crowds to see anything, we had the whole place nearly to ourselves. It turns out one of the reasons for this was that we were there a half hour before closing time. So we did get the bum's rush as I was frantically snapping pictures. Still, it was a lovely afternoon.





Happy Spring.
Peace.

Spring into Summer

Garden News

I can't believe it's been a week since I posted. I guess the more I work in the garden, the less I work in here.

Last night there was a danger of frost, which indeed came to pass. I had to blanket and bucket my newly planted crops. It looks like a strange gathering.




I'm glad I don't have to tuck them all in every night, but the reward for enduring the cold night was a glorious Spring day today. I spent the whole day out in it.

Here are some other garden treasures from this week.

lovely pink flowers say hello.

baby pears on the new bartlett.

blueberry blossoms!

Peace.

Lilacs

Once again I was pleasantly surprised that my point-and-shoot camera was able to get the shot that I saw. You should click on it to see the enlarged version, for the full effect.

I thought of calling this one "Lost Innocence," or something equally cliched. The innocence lost was mine, and yet I somehow have it to lose over and over again. It does make me worry what sort of role model I am for my girls.




Peace.

The First Garden Disaster of the Season*

It is hard for me to believe that scotch broom is an invasive plant in the west. My broom bush is struggling to survive. It had belonged to a friend, and since it wasn't doing very well in her less sunny yard, she gave it to me in hopes it would do better. It has flowered beautifully in the Spring.

This picture is from last May.

But it has also tipped further and further over each Winter when it is pummeled and buried by snow.

This picture is from March, this year.

Last week, we decided to transplant it to a safer spot, protected by the dogwood tree, and near the tall fence (so I could tie it for support, if necessary).




Now, I know that brooms don't like to be transplanted, and we made this one's change even more challenging by moving it just before it is about to bloom. I figured it didn't have much chance where it was, and I wanted to get the new pear tree in that spot, so I took the chance. I also had two caring women here to help and do the heavy lifting, and we all felt pretty good about the move.

It has been cool, cloudy, and raining in the days since we transplanted the broom, which I thought would gently ease the transition. Then, this morning when I went out to take the girls to school, I saw it nearly tipped over in the soggy, soft soil. I gasped and shouted in shock. I couldn't tend to it right then because I had to rush the girls to school. When I came back, I didn't take a picture, I just grabbed the first thing long enough that I found--a scarf--and tied the larger branch up to the fence. Later, I found two straps so I could secure both branches. I'm not sure what else I can do.

I want it to live.

*Reading through some of my old posts, I realize this is actually the second garden disaster this season--the first one was when the squirrels ate my tulips before they bloomed.

new life

robin's egg blue

new pear tree & new places for blueberry and peach

Nest and Flight

a robin waits

the 6yo's nest

the 8yo takes flight

the entry path is added to the main garden

the geometry of the back garden

the new magnolia is gently asking the new peach tree to move over

Pear Trouble

anjou blossoms

For some reason, the moonglow pear tree is not blossoming this year. The anjou is very happy, though, so I'm heading over the bridge to see if I can find a blossoming pollinator. Elsewhere in the garden, there is another pair.

tulip and candlestick dance

The potatoes are in!