A Mild March Morning in the Garden (where the wind did not blow)

or

Harbingers of Spring (not the fat robin with a worm this time)













Find the sparrow, looking over the accommodation.....

Early morning, and the thermometer was reading -2C. Husband had been chilly in the night and, wide awake, he brought his cold nose and toes out to turn up the furnace and catch up on the newspapers he reads so avidly.

As we had breakfast the sun came out. The temperature shot up, and the day promised fair for a session in the garden. There I found my old nemesis - the Cutch Grass, - it having taken advantage of the summer and fall to establish itself in amongst last year's newly planted perennials. This is a vicious grass, - fertile and invasive and sly. In other people's gardens it sometimes disguises itself as Quack Grass.. but we know it for what it is!!!

As I poked around with shovel and hoe, trying to dislodge each and every root of this rude invader, I was heartened to see some signs of spring. The daffodils beginning to stretch towards the sun, with blooms half opened.












A few new leaves on the baby climber, just planted last year.
















Some golden blooms on the forsythia, - looking sparse, but promising....




















The Red Maple displaying its scarlet buds against the blue of the spring sky.





















When Husband and I stopped for coffee we enjoyed the sunshine on our backs, and the view of Daly Bluffs to the East, with a distant fire depicting some pruner's diligence. But then it was back to the battle and the efforts to extricate the persistent grass roots entwined around the Shasta Daisies and Peonies.














An adventuresome violet had traveled up from the Lost Garden and established itself amongst the plants. I thought about the lawn at the old garden, awash with violets - purple ones, white ones and mauve ones, blooming against the new green of the grass. The richness and abundance of that garden in the spring was a joy to all who passed by it, but I tell myself that a garden is a garden, and I am grateful to have the opportunity to start anew, even in this small way.
















The small, new peony tree may not have the brilliance of the gorgeous twenty-five year old beauty we left behind, but it is tender and full of promise! And Cutch Grass, alas....





















When lunch time arrived, Husband was just finishing pruning the roses.














We staggered indoors, stiff and sore, but well satisfied. I, at least, had a few muscles that were complaining about this first spring workout, but I am expecting them to get used to the extra exertion and to be in fit form to take part in the next skirmish with the Dandelions and dreaded Cutch Grass.

Over a bowl of soup,we enjoyed the last of our spring omens, - some lovely orange tulips and a mauve and white primrose from the Grocery Store.