“In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours.” ~ Mark Twain
Friday, I played hooky for a few hours and snuck out to the garden. Within minutes, I was peeling off layers like an onion and thinking it was time to move the winter clothes into storage. A week of mid-70’s in early February gets me dreaming about planting spring annuals, but I have wised up a bit through the years.
The city gardens – tucked in and protected from the elements creating their own micro-climate – scream “spring!”
But the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden knows otherwise. A few brave bulbs, the rosemary, and the Ceanothus have appeared,
but the rest of the garden felt a change was in the wind – literally.
It blew in from the north on Saturday – 25 mph of cold in our faces and dropping our reality down a more seasonable twenty degrees. I know. Quit whining. You’re California-spoiled.
Truth be told, none of us are quite ready for spring yet. Spring means summer – and those 100+ degree days will be here soon enough.
So stay tucked under the covers little bulbs, and don’t quite unwrap yet tiny buds –
We’ll take a few more weeks of sweatshirts and Golden blankets.
And some rain would be lovely, too.
“The course of the seasons is a piece of clock-work, with a cuckoo to call when it is springtime.” ~ Georg Christoph Lichtenberg
To my wayward gardeners (one excused for her good work with the dogs)…
I understand your spring fever, but while you are away, the weeds grow wild and tall.
The garden and I carry on without you – because a garden doesn’t make itself.
The roses have been fed their poo tea and the narcissus tied back.
The paths have been freshly laid. The weeds
have been are being pulled and the beds mulched.
And the new entry has been planted while the lilies and lilac begin to bloom.
But be warned – you leave me alone at your own peril –
lest the Dahlias find a new home…
and the poppies multiply…
and the new bed is planted too tight and too tall…
while that hideous shrub that you love is allowed to wither and die.
Don’t worry about me alone…I am in good company.
But be warned: it shall all be mine if you stay away too long.
Possession is, after all, nine-tenths of the law.
“Whoever makes a garden
Has never worked alone;
the rain has always found it,
The sun has always known;
The wind has blown across it
And helped to scatter seeds;
Whoever makes a garden
Has all the help he needs.”
You don’t have to look at the garden to know that winter is giving way to spring. You can sense it.
You don’t have to envision the flowers and trees in bloom. You can smell them.
You don’t have to behold the sun to know that it is shining. You can experience its warmth.
You don’t have to observe the birds to know their delight in fresh worms and tiny buds. You can hear them.
And 10-year-old blind Mac-aroni does not need to see the love of his new mom on their going home day.
He can feel it.
Congratulations and happy life, sweet boy!
“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.” ~ A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young
With a brief, but welcome rain this week, followed by unseasonably warm temperatures, the garden truly came to life.
I should stop saying “unseasonably warm” and just get accustomed to it. Those who don’t believe in climate change surely are not gardeners.
Sarah is back; returned from a year of hard labor on the graveyard/weekend shift at work. We have missed her in the garden.
I love getting to the garden early before everyone else arrives. It’s my chance to survey and see what has newly popped up,
begun to blossom,
or made its way into the garden beds thanks to those mischievous elves.
This is my time to take a few photos,
and to enjoy the company of the garden creatures; nesting Killdeer…
and rare yellow ducks.
My solitude is broken by the play of puppies in the adjacent yard…
and dog walkers – not just passing through – but stopping to sit and play now that the weather is warm.
“You have to give people something to dream on.” ~ Jimi Hendrix
We give you the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden in spring.