Spring is not splashy in my garden. It’s a quiet retreat, takes time to unfold, and proves that slow starts are also smart starts.
I am sad the daffodils haven’t arrived yet. Impatient for cherry blossoms to frill up outside my daughter’s bedroom. But April always reminds me that waiting is the hardest part of gardening.
Behold the spring garden: it’s in the process of becoming.
Squill, an invasive spring bloomer that will overrun native plants, but disguised as a pretty blue floret. I harvest the flowers even as I watch the plant take over patches of my yard.
Not much to look at, yet, but this is the beginning of Virginia bluebell, an exquisite spring flower that flowers in May. Blossoms start pink but fade to a lovely pale blue.
To get indoor sown seeds ready for outdoor weather, I hardened them off by letting them sun bathe at regular intervals in the spring. The parsley loves cooler weather, and probably would prefer to be put into the ground, but I fear we’ll have a couple more below freezing nights before May arrives.
More squill. Pretty, but still a nuisance.
No a nuisance: hyacinth. One of the only colorful spots in the garden right now (except for the squill!).
And after I pluck them and place them in a vase, I can almost forget that squill are such pests in the yard.
I’ve started all of my plants for the season. Snapdragon plants and lettuce are ready to be planted, but the overnight temperatures still drop too low. Squirrels have dug up all my snap peas; I’ve replanted them at least three times. Tiny green shoots from deeply buried garlic bulbs poke through the damp soil, and the chives grow cheerfully, like they are the first to arrive at a book signing. Soon, soon it will all come together.
Thank you so much for investing in my essays. I don’t take your time or your interest for granted.
To see more flower photos, visit my online store at Roots & Vines.
-Betsy
You continue to find hope and joy, even in dark moments. I love this about you, and I love YOU.