gardenthoughts

sometimes .. things just seem to work .. well, at least, in our own minds ..

where some have a gift of vision .. to see what isn’t yet manifest .. a gift i have .. (or, at least that’s how i see it) .. is that i do not see what isn’t there until it is in front of me .. for instance .. the lily bed frank built .. he could see it before he even started putting it together .. i could not .. consequently, i often am surprised .. delighted .. touched .. when i do see .. whatever it might be .. appearing before my eyes ..

this gift comes with me to the garden ..  i think that’s why i have no interest in designing gardens .. it would take me years .. i can plant the seed .. plant the plant .. and yet, not quite “see” the end result .. and so, i merrily plant .. see what happens .. and then spend time replanting .. moving plants .. all in an attempt to create a certain affect .. a feeling .. a colour combination .. i’m not really sure what .. so far .. in this yard .. it’s been five years of planting and moving and playing around .. catching a glimpse of a vision of what could be .. and now, this year i am rewarded with a few visual delights ..

at the entrance to the yard something lovely is beginning to happen .. well, at least i think so .. it’s one of those things that i didn’t imagine .. a lovely dark pink ernest markham clematis nestled in the abundance of a blue bell clematis that scrambles across the top of the fence .. the blue bell is a sale clematis that came to me with no tag .. and it’s absolutely delightfull .. more abundant every year .. and now that ernest is making himself at home the combination is more that i ever could have imagined .. had no idea what the two would look like together until this year ..

the bell clematis has completely covered three quarters of the fence .. made it’s way over the arbour .. mingled with ernest .. mingled with the self pollinating kiwi .. (another story) .. it is “a very vigorous specimen,” as phil would have said .. it’s gorgeous, really .. the stalk of it climbing up five feet or more before it stretches out .. a profusion of stems .. leaves .. flowers .. it engulfs the top of the fence .. it’s taking over the arbour .. and it’s wonderfull ..

earlier in the year .. on the other side of the fence was another bit of pleasantry .. again, a sale plant .. a rambling rose with no name .. lovely thing .. more flowers this year than ever before .. brilliant deep pink .. almost to red .. buds .. open to a pastel .. antique pink rose flower ..

and not only this

.. yet another, unknown clematis .. (though i have a notion it is ‘etoile violette’) .. began blooming shortly after this lovely rose made her appearance .. and one day as i stood admiring the two of them ..  i could envision what they might look like in a few years .. intertwined .. initially .. the blooming of the rose .. then .. the clematis making an appearance .. eventually .. the rose fading out ..  and the clematis carrying on ..

that, dear readers, was akin to a revelation for me ..

it takes many years to make a garden .. does me, at least .. and i’ve barely scratched the surface .. i can hardly wait to see what emerges ..

i was in stu’s garden today .. we’ve been working together for five or six years now .. and we’re delighted, every year, with the progress we’re making .. a few years ago, after a trip to ontario, stu decided that he would like to make a butterfly garden .. his intention was to encourage monarch butterflies to come to the garden .. and so, both of us, ignorant really, began the process of creating a butterfly garden .. on the top and down the sides of a rock embankment that defines one side of his property .. what had been a craggy rock bluff has, with lots of hard work and love for the potential, become a garden .. it makes it a bit challenging when you put your shovel to the ground, ready to dig in, and find that one or two inches down you encounter solid bedrock .. lol .. ah, the joys of gardening on an island .. one huge rock, essentially .. anyway .. year after year, we’ve brought dirt and manure over from town .. year after year i’ve built up the soil .. layer by layer .. at this point, it’s about eight to ten inches deep in spots .. it’s been a great ‘build a garden’ experience .. yup .. we’re bulding a garden .. magic ..

i’ve never wanted to design other people’s gardens .. i’m more of a gardener’s gardener .. it’s my pleasure to assist people to bring about their own expression in their garden .. whatever that expression might be .. for stu it’s a butterfly garden .. for phil, it was a winter flowering shade garden .. i have enough ‘designing’ to do in my own yard .. thank you very much .. in our garden it’s more a joint effort .. frank builds the beds .. i plant them up .. pretty much willy nilly .. although with time i’m gathering experience .. i still don’t see it as my mission to design anyone else’s garden space .. that said, i’m happy to do the work required to create another’s garden .. and i’m delighted to maintain the gardens .. i find that every garden i have the pleasure of working in, is an expression of the one whose garden it is .. ‘designed’ .. or willy nilly .. stu’s garden is a bit of both, really .. he dreams it up .. i plant it ..

i’m beginning to realize that digression is simply part of my nature .. and so .. please bear with me ..

in the case of stu and me, ignorance has proven bliss .. and, although we haven’t yet attracted monarch butterflies, there are a number of others that are regular visitors .. different varieties of admiral butterflies (i think they’re called) .. lovely yellow and black striped swallowtails .. little blue guys .. tiny orange and black, skippers (?) .. and a few others that flit through from time to time ..

not all the plants in the butterfly garden are butterfly plants .. however, we have planted many that are .. butterfly weed .. asters .. coneflowers .. verbena .. agastache .. cat mint .. daisies .. flea bane .. red valerian .. alliums .. salvias .. to name a few ..

in the ‘non butterfly plants’ we have a startling red peony .. a gentian sage .. then, there’s a lovely big patch of lupines .. and we’ve let the foxgloves set themselves about the garden .. in fact, the foxgloves, and the lupines have been putting on the most wonderfull performance for us over the past two or three weeks .. i deadhead the lupines weekly when i’m there, and they are carrying on beautifully .. the foxgloves get taller every week .. the flowers climbing steadfastly up the stalks .. these plants may not be butterfly attracting plants .. however, they are attractive to stu and me .. we happily stand at the railing, looking over the garden .. oooo-ing and ahhh-ing ..

and, after all, that’s ultimately the point of any garden .. isn’t it .. ? .. isn’t that what drives us on .. or motivates us .. in part, perhaps .. to continually create a garden .. a space which gives us pleasure .. changing .. adding .. subtracting .. this colour .. that texture .. these together .. big patches of this or that .. continually editing in an attempt to achieve a certain picture .. or a feeling .. or a theme .. doesn’t matter, really .. does it .. it’s done for the sake of  pleasure .. and “what is pleasing to one .. ” .. every garden’s different ..

so .. butterfly season is coming upon us quickly .. every day we see more and more about .. maybe this year there’ll even be a monarch ..

i’ve just come back from one of the gardens i look after .. i was planting up some annuals that i brought over from town yesterday .. the garden is a newly, professionally planted garden .. this is its first year of growth and it’s doing very well .. most of the gardens over here are owner planted and gardened, so the professionally planted gardens are a bit of a novelty for us .. and, as a maintenance gardener i find it quite interesting to see how ‘professionals’ go about planting up a yard .. it’s a learning experience as i get to know the garden .. what’s planted where .. to see how, in some respects, the mind of a professional landscaper works ..

at any rate, before i get off on a tangent, what i wanted to tell you about is this lovely display of mother of thyme that is now in full bloom .. it grows along a six or seven foot stepping stone pathway, which leads to a larger barbeque area .. the pinkness of the blossoms envelope the roundness of the stepping stones .. the blossoms are about 2 inches tall throughout .. puffs of pink .. as you walk into the barbeque area, the pattern changes ..

in this area, huge rectangular slabs of concrete make up the patio, with about 6 inches of space between the slabs .. and those 6 inches around each slab are planted up with mother of thyme .. again, full of falling, puffs of pink blossoms .. softening the squareness of the concrete .. creating depth in the flatness .. where the sun shines on the thyme the flowers are in full bloom .. where it’s a bit shadier, flowers are yet to come ..

while i stood there, admiring the effect, the most wonderfull part of all was the myriad of bees buzzing about in the lusciousness of the flowers .. big bees .. little bees .. colourfull bees .. black bees .. dozens of them .. as they moved from puff to puff they appeared to be tumbling through them .. it reminded me of children jumping on beds covered in down filled comforters .. and the bees appeared to be having as much fun as children as they bumped around in these cushions of tiny pink flowers .. gathering nectar .. tumbling from flower to flower .. as i watched, they jostled about .. busy as bees .. working as only bees work .. oblivious of my presence .. so intent on the job at hand .. and yet, in their busyness was this element of playfullness and joy surrounding the process of collection .. it was delightfull to see the mother of thyme buzzing with bee activity ..

what i got from watching them .. joy .. joy of bee-ing ..

well, the deer are at it again .. in full force, it seems .. they are growing new horns at the moment, and i suppose their bodies are demanding more food .. over here, they’ve gotten used to the more gourmet diet of prized perennials and bulbs .. fresh, tender green shrub leaves .. right now it’s geraniums .. some varieties .. not all .. they love chewing away at the luscious leaves of grape hyacinths .. the delectable new buds of fresh tulips .. over the past few days i’ve heard the gardeners’ lament  .. “those $^&%#^ deer .. they’re eating plants in my garden they’ve never eaten before .. they even ate the tops off my garlic” .. that’s a new one to me .. although, i do believe that the deers’ taste buds will eventually become accustomed to the deer spray .. regardless,  i carry on .. after all, i’d rather find one or two plants that have been taste tested than find the deer have mowed down all the tulips .. or the coneflowers .. or the coral bells .. i figure, okay .. i chose to live where you were already living .. so what do i expect .. i certainly don’t want the deer to disappear .. i love them .. coming across them standing in a yard .. or in the forest .. or in my garden .. looking somewhat majestic and proud .. looking at me as if daring me to think otherwise .. they are lovely beings .. so .. i use the deer spray .. after all, it’s not everywhere in the world that one can stand still watching a big, beautiful buck leisurely wandering through the back yard .. tulip leaves dangling from their chops .. dear deer ..

all in all, there are sometimes up to six or seven deer wandering the island .. when they are out in full force, as they seem to be these days, i resort to a slight change in the deer spray recipe .. i figure the spray pretty harmless, as it is .. yolk .. baking powder .. water .. i’m pretty sure it doesn’t harm the deer in any way .. and in my experience over the past ten years or so of using it, the spray works ..  it creates a taste .. and perhaps a smell .. that the deer don’t seem to like .. for the most part, they aren’t interested in eating any plants sprayed with it .. but, that said .. it’s better to be safe than sorry .. when the deer get into spring mode .. eating everything they find .. and when i walk into my back garden and see they’ve been eating the geraniums .. and even taking a taste of the flower of the helleborus argutifolius .. (that’s a another new one on me) .. well, then it’s time to bring out the big guns .. tobasco ..

the way i see it, the more dis-tasteful i can make the spray the safer the plants in my care are from the jaws of bambi .. so .. here’s the recipe i gave you in the post ‘dear deer’ from february  2009 .. with the addition of tobasco ..

fill a blender with 1 litre of water
add 1 egg yolk
add 1 tablespoon of baking powder

** shake in a good half teaspoon or so of tobasco**

blend
(however you choose to do this is up to you .. i use a blender and pulse and count nine or eleven pulses .. relatively gently, or you fill up with foam)

i’ve also used one of those electric blenders .. and i know someone who uses a hand beater .. it’s more just use what you’ve got at hand to mix it up ..

pour into a sprayer or spray bottle
(some people i know strain it because of the possible congestion created by the alum in the egg) and spray your garden ..

generally, i spray every three weeks or so .. or, when i know the deer are out in full force throughout the summer, i tend to spray every couple of weeks, or even once a week, depending how militant i feel towards them .. armed with a spray bottle i aim, and spray, determined to keep the deer at bay .. sometimes, like a premonition, i’ve thought “deer” and not paid attention .. the next day, without fail, my inattention is rewarded with munched plants .. you’ll find your own way with it, i’m sure .. for me, it’s been at least 90% effective ..

i spray everything, pretty much, except those plants i have come to know as “deer proof” .. i even spray it on veggies as i don’t see anything harmful in it, and, more often than not, i wash any veggies i’m eating .. (unless i’m grazing in the garden, that is) ..

so .. good luck with this .. can’t hurt to try it .. and .. you may even see that tulip bloom this year ..

as i wandered about our garden for the third time this afternoon, peering, i found my self musing about how i ever came to be such a peerer .. i mean, i know that not every gardener is a peerer .. however, for me, peering is simply in my nature .. i’ve been peering at life since i was a little girl .. it’s as natural for me to peer as to breathe .. as if there is an element in my make-up that expresses itself through the act of peering .. that doesn’t want to miss a thing .. that has to see as much as possible of what is happening in and around me .. and now, i suppose, to share it through blogging ..

ease of peering requires space .. consequently, i tend to be more than a bit of a cleaner in the garden .. “fastidious” comes to mind .. during my time gardening with phil there was always something going on .. much to do but also much to see .. my peering skills were honed .. keeping the garden visible was a big part of the job .. the tidier the garden was kept, the easier it was for us to see plants unfolding .. i was in peering heaven with so much to watch growing .. not only was there the delight of watching a garden flowering during the winter .. there were the  inhabitants .. plants that until then, were unbeknownst to my mind .. they grew as the understory of the garden .. in early winter i’d watch cyclamen coum leaves appear .. up through the earth .. i’d bend my body closer .. i’d crouch down .. i’d peer at these tiny, magenta buds unfurling .. ever so slowly .. over a period of weeks .. creating a carpet beneath the fragrance of yellow, spidery witchhazel flowers .. beneath the forming buds of hellebores .. beneath the strapping stems of rhodos .. pink and white and deeper pink .. magenta .. so exquisitely beautiful .. sometimes touched with dew .. or a raindrop .. so much magic in cyclamen .. anemones .. hellebores .. primula ..

added to that performance,  was the show from deciduous shrubs .. witchhazels, of course .. abeliophyllum distichum .. corylopsis .. vibirnum bodnantense .. winter flowering cherry (prunus subhirtella ‘autumnalis’) .. daphne mezereum (february daphne) .. deciduous rhododendron (rhododendron mucranulatum ‘cornell pink’) .. stachyurus praecox .. whoever heard of such a thing .. well, phil did .. and when he wasn’t out in the garden, he was poring over shade gardening books .. looking for not only shade plants, but shade plants that bloomed during the winter months .. then figuring out what nursery in town .. or out of town .. might carry such specimens that we could, somehow, transport back to the island ..  incredible .. and there was i .. in the midst of it all .. digging .. screening .. mixing .. planting .. bringing plants home .. mulching .. up close and personal experience (so to speak) .. peering at the magic  continually unfolding in the garden ..  year after year .. privileged to have ‘peering rights’  to every inch of it .. so thankful to be there with him at that point in his life ..

i digress a bit .. we’re not finished yet .. there are evergreen shrubs to keep an eye on .. daphne odora .. skimmia reevesianna .. rhododendrons .. choisya .. mahonia .. osmanthus .. sarcococca .. (there’s another one .. who knew such a plant existed) .. all, silently coming to fruition .. so green for so many summer months .. their green-ness getting stronger .. shinier, somehow .. buds forming at their tips .. colour emerging .. and then, one january day .. or november day .. or december day .. open ..

yet, there’s another layer .. another musing .. one rhodo in the yard is going to bloom for the first time since i’ve known it .. phil had already planted it before i came to help him .. so thirteen years .. maybe more .. and now, this year, it has flower buds .. seven of them .. i have no idea what colour it is .. and i don’t know its name .. phil and i used to call it “rex” .. it was the king of the garden .. somehow .. and i’ve been peering at it for years .. peering deep into the centres of the whorls of glossy, deep green leaves, growing on the tips of straggly branches .. waiting for flower buds to appear .. and now, this year .. a gift of flowers .. peering has brought much patience into my experience .. i’ve watched a clematis that took seven years to bloom once .. hasn’t since .. what is that .. does it mean there’s something “wrong” with the plant .. (i have my doubts) .. is it because the yard is so shady that the plant grows slower (could be) .. they definitely perform differently than we anticipate .. (we are much more familiar, perhaps, with the upbeat, crescendo of summer gardens) .. maybe it’s the dormancy of the season that has everything to do with the slowness of growth .. maybe it’s simply a garden with its own rhythm (as gardens tend to be) .. a slow, subtle expression of a winter flowering shade ..  that phil .. consciously or not .. created here on this little island .. for nonie .. to enjoy after he was gone ..

working as a maintenance gardener on a small island definitely has its advantages .. for instance, every morning i load up my wheelbarrow with favoured tools .. into my trug goes gloves, trowel, snips, a kneeling pad, my camera, my sunhat and my coffee cup  .. my rake, broom, winged weeder, and shovel lay just so in the bottom of the barrow .. bits and pieces like string, velcro, scissors, screwdriver, hammer, snacks, etc., live in a small white plastic basket that fits neatly under the long handled tools .. thus outfitted, i make my way to the yard of the day .. i have no vehicle using gas, no traffic to manuever around (other than the occasional car, golf cart, bicycle or pedestrian), no looking for a parking spot .. just moving gently along on the planet .. me and my wheelbarrow, and often my trusty dog friend, beau, wending our way to the garden of the day, where i am given the liberty to peer, admire, preen, coddle, snip and clean .. to me, there is no greater vocation than to work in gardens ..

a case in point .. last september, i toddled into a new garden once a week, for nine months .. this particular garden was not new to me in that i hadn’t been in it before, but new in that i was going to look after it while the resident gardener was off to sail the pacific ocean with her husband during a year’s sabbatical .. and so, while these two were sailing the briny sea i was here, tending their garden .. and what delights were shown to me there ..

this garden is the work of an artist .. a painter of remarkably portrayed botanicals .. a painter of brilliantly coloured acrylics .. a writer of poetry and memoir ..  a budding pianist .. and a gardener .. so .. when i enter this yard it is as if i am entering a reflection of her art .. and i approach the garden from this perspective .. as art .. (actually, i am inclined to approach all gardens from this perspective .. happily) .. and, the plants are an essential part of each picture .. i’m hopeful that the photographs i’ve taken will convey some of the ‘art’ i saw as i peered around the yard, throughout the seasons ..

autumn: last autumn brought us a lot of rainy fridays .. as friday was my day in this particular garden, gardening tasks were thus limited ..(phil  told me that it’s best not to work with plants in the rain .. so, i don’t) .. however, i was still able to do some general cleanup in the woodshed/composting area .. and, naturally, to observe and photograph what was happening in the garden at that time ..

winter: snow came .. and stayed for over three weeks .. a long time for us,  here ..

upon its disappearance, there was more time to amble about the garden, peering ..

.. up, and down ..

eventually, as spring approached, peering took precedence ..

spring and the performance carries on .. one delightfull scene after another ..

and the hellebores are wonderfull ..

summer brings with it flowering shrubs, as well as perennials ..

.. and a few ‘unusuals’ ..

you know, after having spent nine months in this garden, peering and taking photos, i am now finding it a bit of a challenge to choose only ‘a few’ photographs for this post .. i think i might have gone overboard .. however, it’s quite a different exercise, to look back over almost a year’s photos and recollect what was happening, and when .. i had such a lovely time caring for this garden .. and, in my mind, one enjoyment in having a garden is being able to see it .. to enjoy the pleasures it has to offer in the moment .. i’m grateful for the opportunity i had to move through the seasons in this garden, peering ..

i rescued this plant from a compost pile a year ago last autum .. there were two plants, actually .. it sometimes happens that people will throw plants away which, for me, is like having a free nursery at my fingertips .. anyway, i knew their family name was ‘geum,’ and that their christian name (a comparison phil used to try and instill the rules of plant naming in my mind – i’m not sure it worked) was mrs bradshaw .. and so i planted them in a small raised bed in our back yard .. they had already bloomed, so i didn’t have the opportunity to watch them up close as they grew through their ‘season’ .. which, much to my delight, happens to be most of the summer .. however, the next year i did ..

when i saw the yellow bud break i felt a bit of a disappointment, at first .. they had been a brilliant scarlet red in the other garden .. what happened? .. something in the soil? .. not enough sunlight? .. too much water? .. how come they were yellow? .. making my way past disappointment, i then invisioned all the new buds bursting into swaying stocks of brilliant canary yellow .. not red .. not quite what i’d anticipated ..  but, hey, i’m open to change .. and, boy, did things starting changing ..

those beautiful yellow buds began opening .. and they weren’t yellow anymore .. the emerging colour was orange .. i was in awe of how such a small bud could negotiate such a tremendous change .. and so i peered deep into the heart of mrs bradshaw, anticipating yet another change .. i felt no disappointment .. how could i, being in the presence of such a stunning outworking .. and then, the orange changed to brilliant, scarlet red .. ah .. just as i remembered ..

and not only that, but she continued to open, giving more red, then once again revealing a touch of original yellow .. how do they do that .. marvellous ..

this year i had to move the geum from the raised bed as that part of the yard is in a state of evolve at the moment .. they are both planted in a large, ceramic pot,  and live out on the corner of the deck, outside the garden shed, where they receive lots of sunlight and warmth .. and so, right now, while i’m here writing this our back yard is graced with the presence of mrs bradshaw, in all her scarlet glory ..

and so, to the mrs bradshaw, whoever you are, thank you, madam ..

just wanted to put in these photos to show how that yellow primula, with the orange/red edging, then turned to this yellow primula with purple edging .. and since this shot, the edging has disappeared altogether .. how do they do that! ..

i am so far behind, i think i’m first .. that’s a phrase a friend of mine uses, and i know just what he means .. here we are .. spring arrived almost a month ago, and even though the weather has continued to be “abnormally” cold for here, pretty much everything is growing .. i believe the plants know well enough when it’s time to start emerging, whether we think it’s too cold or not ..i feel quite privileged to be privy to a lot of yards with wonderfull gardens emerging .. ah, the joys and benefits of being a maintenance gardener ..

i don’t really know where to start with writing, so much time has passed ..  times of going all day, sweeping, raking, weeding, mulching, and then getting home, and eating, and having an epsom salts soak, and heading to bed .. however, i always make time to wander about in my own garden, which is growing in leaps and bounds .. it’s wonderfull to see how the moves and plantings i did last fall are working out this year .. so far so good ..

primulas are one of the stars of the show in our garden right now .. i don’t have many, but the ones that are here are doing very well .. strong and happy .. along with primula i’d already accumulated, i brought a new, to me, variety into the garden .. a drumstick primula .. this particular one was an early bloomer, and there is a second plant with three more flower stalks yet to bloom .. although the flowers form a sort of ball, which is very appealing, when i look closely i see the definite primula-ness of each flower .. delightfull ..

when i planted the primula in the fall i made decisions based on colour combinations .. which, now that they are showing themselves, are working out quite well .. this is one of my combinations .. i liked the idea that the many petaled mauve was a contrast to the single petals of the pastel yellow ..

the little mauve primula is one i collected from outside the door of a suite i stayed at in a nearby resort a year ago last fall .. she’s quite a blousey little thing, and i love the way the petals sit tight together, opening wider bit by bit .. i don’t recall where the pale yellow one came from but i like them together ..

then, just a few feet away are the more boldly coloured ones .. like this stunning fire engine orange red one .. a single plant, it grows amongst a few of these delightfull yellow primula edged with a similar orange red .. the colours change somewhat as the flowers open (will have to get a couple of pics later of them fully opened ..

i also planted two candelabra primulas which i lost for the longest time .. i had begun to think they had disappeared altogether .. then, one day i was out peering about, and there were these tiny little primula leaves coming up out of the ground amongst the sweet woodruff .. i am thrilled .. i have no illusions of flowers this year, however, just the presence of the little guys is so pleasing to me .. perhaps one day i’ll be able to add a photos of them to this blog .. “all things in their own time” ..

even though it is only five days to the spring equinox, it’s a bit difficult to think of spring as i look out the window to see snow falling .. there’s a front coming in, the weatherpeople say, bringing high winds and rain .. yup, the trees are swaying in the gusts, the rain is pelting the roof, and big flakes of soppy wet snow are coming down to earth .. i tell myself that this is march, coming in “like a lion,” and i have visions of her “going out like a lamb” .. which, naturally, includes sunshine and flowers .. well, we have some of the flowers already ..

there have been vibirnum bodnantense flowers .. pink and white and fragrant .. one sniff just sends me into a swoon .. she is one of the first to appear as early as november, and staying until now .. and, at the same time the vibirnum are blooming, the hazel nuts are sending down tightly contracted catkins that eventually open up into cattail like tassels .. and, if you are close enough to see, miniscule red flowers open at the tips of buds .. incredible .. these are two of my earliest introductions to flowering deciduous shrubs .. this yard is filled with many, all with a particular role to play in the subtle unfolding time of winter ..

and, at this time in the cycle, the witchhazels are starting to wane, having been blooming since january .. there is a particularly “vigorous specimen” just inside the driveway (hamammelis mollis ‘pallida’) .. huge, vase shaped, covered in yellow tendrilly (is that a word?) flowers filling the yard with so much fragrance that it wafts out into the surrounding area, intoxicating those who come within its reaches .. so lovely .. another, more subtle witchhazel, reaches along and across the fence beside the public walkway .. it’s one of those ones that you really have to look for, in order to see her true beauty .. strings of orange/red spider out from the tips of branches .. wonderfull ..

and, cyclamen coum are covering bits of ground with their delightfull pinks .. brilliant against the dullness of what we are so used to as winter, living on coastal lands ..

and soon, hellebores will grace the yard with their full blown presence .. some, like the white helleborus niger, have been blooming since january, and like the witchhazel are on the wane .. but, here, at the end of the winter the helleborus orientalis, resplendent with shades of pink, is ready to take over the role ..

and, the other day, as i wandered about, peering at the earth, there were primroses (primula vulgaris), with pale, yet strong yellow buds unfurling before my eyes .. i always think of these particular ones as the harbingers of spring, coming so closely with the natural rhythm of the vernal equinox .. and here we are, at the end of the winter’s cycle .. and yet, as i again gaze out the window, the snow is falling as if it is going to stay awhile .. only five more days .. thankfully, i have the pleasure of the winter garden phil created to carry me through to winter’s end ..