Spring has not been shy this year; it's pushed late winter aside and settled in for a week of May in March. This morning, the Iris reticulata announced the first day of spring by opening its first bloom, shining royally purple alongside a granite foundation.
The snowdrops have been blooming for a few days, swaying their bowed heads in the moving air.
Other plants are emerging, showing the hopeful color green: daffodils,
and the red tinged young leaves of sorrel.
The scarlet knobs of rhubarb heatedly announce their presence.
Parsnips, sweetening in the ground over the winter, are the first harvest of the new year.
A sound of spring.
Birds are singing, and water is burbling in tiny early season rivulets. All of this is exhilarating, and I find it hard to stay indoors (except for keeping up with my blog, dear readers); my work tables are abandoned this week while I prune apple trees, cut back plants, clean up borders, prepare the vegetable garden for planting, and just sit in the sun. The coming of spring is always sweet, even this year with its short and mild winter. The renewal of spring is ripe with poetry and metaphor, a return to light and growth.
Such colour! How exciting it must be -- no wonder you have left behind indoors for a day or two. You are pruning apples and on this side of the globe we are picking ours.
ReplyDeletehi Blorgie, it's kind of wonderful to think of the earth going through such different cycles in different places. Enjoy the fall down there.
DeleteI am well now and can't wait to get to Orient and smell some soil.
ReplyDeleteI am well now and can't wait to get to Orient and smell some soil.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to hear you're better. The outdoor scent in Orient will be beautiful.
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