Envy is not an admirable trait but I have to confess that at this time of year, when gardeners even a short distance to the south of me are picking daffodils and beginning to smell the roses, I am envious. Here, in Quebec’s Eastern Townships, patches of snow are still much in evidence and where the snow has melted, the ground is soggy, squelching underfoot.
Yesterday, though, my heart brightened when I saw the first crocus in bloom.
I agree, these little blossoms are nothing when compared to the swathes of colour I see from gardens in England or British Columbia or states in the U.S. southeast. Or with the extraordinary display of Texas bluebells that I was looking forward to seeing in April, when I was scheduled to speak in Austin. (Check out Pam Penick’s blog here for some fabulous photos of what I might have seen.) Still, even these modest displays say that spring will come, even this year when so many around the world are suffering, sick and dying.
So I rejoice in the crocus and in the snowdrops that are blooming everywhere.
The daffodil foliage just beginning to emerge lifts my spirits.
In the woods, the snow cover is still heavy in spots, but even there it is beginning to melt.
Water is pouring over the waterfall, as more snow upstream melts.
So spring is definitely on its way. All I can say is, hurry up, please!
Is less more? I associate the familiar phrase with Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, one of the founders of modern architecture and a proponent of simplicity of style. But when I went to confirm this, I found to my surprise that the phrase was first used in print in Andrea del Sarto, a poem by Robert Browning. Who strive - you don't know how the others strive To paint a little thing like that you smeared Carelessly passing with your robes afloat,- Yet do much less, so much less, Someone
Folk wisdom in Canada says that it is safe to plant tender annuals after May 24. Why that date? Because it's Queen Victoria's birthday. (Don't ask, it makes no sense....) Generally, this is a safe guideline. But day before yesterday, on May 25, it snowed. It was cold -- almost freezing, in fact. And we lost power for 16 hours. Not fun. Snow on the windshield: unbelievable! Yup, it's May 25. In the garden, Daphne 'Carol Mackie' was in bloom. The photo below isn't great. I'm including it because of
“Landscape is history made visible,” said J.B. Jackson, the American cultural geographer. I subscribe wholeheartedly to this idea. Every piece of land has a history. Glen Villa has lots – in fact, you almost trip over it here. The waterfall, for instance, started life over a century ago, when a stream coming down through the woods was dammed to provide power for a sawmill. The waterfall at Glen Villa Every gardener may not want to make history visible in their gardens, but