Emerald City

When the sun makes a surprise appearance the world suddenly lights up. It's blindingly green and bright (harsh on our weak winter eyes) when the clouds part.  Of course we don't usually see it, but sunrise is before 6 am now.  The April sun is strong at this latitude. 

The Seattle humanoids are turning into salamanders, but the garden loves this constant, intermittent drenching. If only we could spread out the rain over the whole dang summer, instead of taking such a lickin' now.  By August, the lawns are crispy brown and I'll be complaining again about watering.

In almost 40 years scratching around this little plot, I've never seen the plants quite so rampant and lush, especially the roses. I fertilize them earlier than most people, right when they start leafing out in February. When the warmth finally hits, the flowers should be glorious.

This was a Costco tulip purchase last fall. I forgot I also planted a bag of hyacinths. No wonder we had so many nice ones.

September 2016

Planting fall bulbs is an exercise in optimism.  We put them into the ground in the fall, just when everything is dying. Who will enjoy those flowers?  Will it be us?  Spring says so much about our faith.

And here we are, as the season rolls around again. A nice display seen from the bedroom window.

It's been too cold and wet to work much outside. I'm behind. Those pretty flopping tulips are hiding a mess of weeds and other spring flowers that need to be cleared out to make room for the changing of the guard.

A big hands-and-knees job for a warm afternoon...

O' my sweet clematis

Your bloom so short

I want your blooms

To never stop...

Richard McCellan

Yes, yes, very sweet. But enough, already. I'm tired of tracking this into the house. 

Nature is messy.