There is a magical moment, just before the orchestra begins, when the oboe gives a note and the instruments are tuned in a chaotic staccato of strings, horns and reeds. A short, breathless pause follows as the conductor raises the wand – before a symphony explodes in synchronized waves of sound. The gardener knows this as early spring.
A tulip appears,
then an iris,
an apple blossom,
and tiny Clematis buds unwind –
as if the whole garden is standing tall and ready – preparing to come alive.
We are firmly in that magical period of early spring now.
The heart can literally skip a beat in anticipation –if only the back didn’t ache from the thought of the overwhelming work ahead! Roses and fruit trees to be fed – weeds to be pulled – lawns to be seeded – paths restored – mulch laid. The list is endless. But attacked with joy.
“Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.” ~ Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
There is another sign of early spring – even more miraculous. More to come.
Gardens For Goldens 