The sun shines, the sky is blue. I see through the window that the catkins are leaving the hazelnut tree, off in search of those small red female catkins I presume. Busy ensuring a good crop of hazelnuts in the fall, which pleases me greatly.
The lilac buds are swelling. I look forward to their wonderful fragrance in May - something we haven't had since we left the Lost Garden on Tenth, as the lilac we planted on the hill just sulked for five years and only had two or three blooms in all that time.
I have been out planting grass seeds in the little bed that lies smack in the middle of the front handkerchief lawn. Vincent leveled it off and prepared it for seeding before he left for home on the Meadow, so I spread the seed, covered it with fine soil, tramped it lightly with my clogs and spoke sharply to the little birds about getting into the cookie jar, so to speak.
The maple and the willow that shade the front lawn are both taking advantage of the nighttime showers and the daytime sun and herald spring with tiny delicate leaves and winged seeds on the maple that grow longer and more elegant each day.
Our neighbour to the west has a lovely circular carpet of violets
and over the fence, to the east, the apricot tree is starting to bloom
Gardening in town is not spectacular but, as always, it touches the heart
and at the end of the day one must always smell of glorious rich dirt!
The day the Lord created Hope was probably the same day he created Spring
Bern Williams
I am going out now to plant the remnants of the indoor spring bulbs that made waiting for spring bearable.
And to find the perfect spot for the amaryllis bulbs to summer-over.
And, here, too is an excerpt from A.E. Housman's Spring Morning
Star and coronal and bell
April underfoot renews
And the hope of man, as well
Flowers among the morning dews.
Now the old come out to look.
Winter past and winter's pains.
How the sky in pool and brook
Glitters on the grassy plains.
Easily the gentle air
Wafts the turning season on;
Things to comfort them are there
though 'tis true the best are gone....
It seems to me especially meaningful and relevant.
And, here, too is an excerpt from A.E. Housman's Spring Morning
Star and coronal and bell
April underfoot renews
And the hope of man, as well
Flowers among the morning dews.
Now the old come out to look.
Winter past and winter's pains.
How the sky in pool and brook
Glitters on the grassy plains.
Easily the gentle air
Wafts the turning season on;
Things to comfort them are there
though 'tis true the best are gone....
It seems to me especially meaningful and relevant.
2 comments:
Glad you're out playing in the dirt, Hildred. Won't the smell of lilacs be glorious? I have a bush here in Denver, too. Often I'm traveling when it blooms, but I'm hopeful this year I'll be able to gather some for indoors.
The poem makes me cry (not entirely unhappy tears, just matter-of-fact ones). I'm hoping there will be lilacs in Colorado still when we are there in June...sometimes there are. (They're always gone in Oregon by the time we get there.)
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