On its way
We've settled into that wet, gray, slightly-oppressive time of year in Seattle when I long for sunny spring days and soil that's not too wet to garden in.
Today, upon close inspection, my front garden reminded me that spring is on its way, although clearly not in any rush. The brown and dreary is giving way to the first buds of rhubarb leaves and contorted quince blossoms. Crocuses are trying desperately to cheer us up and hold our attention until the daffodils can get their act together. A few ground covers are lush and green and performing just as they should despite nobody taking notice. The violets that I planted to remind me of Grandma Marguerite are tall (as tall as violets get that is) and fragrant. And of course, right on time, the Lenten roses are looking lovely.
I think for the next 40 days I will try to give up being in such a hurry for winter to be done.
Today, upon close inspection, my front garden reminded me that spring is on its way, although clearly not in any rush. The brown and dreary is giving way to the first buds of rhubarb leaves and contorted quince blossoms. Crocuses are trying desperately to cheer us up and hold our attention until the daffodils can get their act together. A few ground covers are lush and green and performing just as they should despite nobody taking notice. The violets that I planted to remind me of Grandma Marguerite are tall (as tall as violets get that is) and fragrant. And of course, right on time, the Lenten roses are looking lovely.
I think for the next 40 days I will try to give up being in such a hurry for winter to be done.
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