Early Belle of the Ball



Ranunculaceae


One of our three clematis plants is blooming - the magenta one on the shed. The flower beds aren't very colorful right now, we're in a pre-blooming state for many of the flowers. This lady, however, is like a guest who arrived early to the ball ... no one else is dressed yet, we are all still waiting for the hair stylist, and you can't help but gawk a bit at her blazing entrance.

I eagerly await the rest of the color in the gardens. The daisies are slowly unfurling and one of the varieties of dwarf daylillies we bought last year are blooming. It's funny how much of gardening is thoughtful bloom-time. We need some early bloomers to keep this poor clematis company.

Baby Jay

Baby Blue Jay

I'm sharing my coffee with the birds today. It's a gorgeous, early-summer morning and I'm sitting quietly enough that the chickadees and wrens are at the feeder bickering. I pretend not to eavesdrop.  A blue jay woke me up around 4:30 and has continued its noisy caw-ing around the porch and front sidewalk. I just realized why. A baby jay plopped down just outside the porch rail, and momma jay sat nearby for a while, taking a look. She's gone now, but I managed to snap a photo and move away. I think the nest must be in the non-functional gutter on the porch roof. That would explain some things. Poor little bub. I hope he'll be ok.

Seriously spring

We have six or eight varieties of iris. This one smells like grape soda.

Most mornings I sit out on our front porch with a cup of coffee and enjoy a quiet moment. Today I can smell the flowering shrub we've got alongside the house, it's in full bloom and buzzing with bees. Porch coffee means summer to me, and when I find myself on the border of spring and summer I am reluctant to step into the next season. Stay awhile, spring. What's your hurry?
Other signs of spring - irises blooming and strawberries ripening. All the berries seem to be faring well after the soggy spring. Earlier this week, Oliver and I sat in the tall grass by the fence and picked the tiny, wild strawberries that grow in our yard. They're super big this year - maybe the size of a small marble. Still small, but oh, so sweet. And it was a special moment, with him in my lap, me feeding him these tiny berries ... I couldn't help but think about the fleeting quality of spring, of strawberries, and of children. Blink and they're gone by you.

Garden Gifts

One of the things I love about our gardens is that many of the plants were gifts, trades or things we dug up along the roadside. I suppose I'm frugal by nature, and I'm certainly frugal about nature. We are always trying to give away plants that have overrun our small spaces, and the bounty always returns somehow.
Kevin's sister gave us a small chunk of a bleeding heart plant that grew beside their doorstep. I'd always admired their big bushy plant and was psyched to take some home after one trip out to visit. In later years, we found that their plant died. Maybe during an upcoming trip, we'll take a slip back to them ...