Pre-Spring Garden

The amen of nature is always a flower. (Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.)

Open crocus - Guenette photo

Today’s sunshine opened this lovely crocus for my admiration and camera.

Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud, yet guaranteed a flower. (F. Scott Fitzgerald)

Closed crocus - guenette photo

Surrounded by the wild, these few beauties await the full sun.

“A friend cannot be owned
That is plain to see
Friendships must be shared,
Just like our friend, Ruby”
(Stephen Cosgrove from Rhubarb)

Rhubarb - Guenette photoThe first sighting of rhubarb is always greeted with glee.

 

Christmas Rose - Guenette photo

The Christmas rose (Hellebore) continues to show off it’s delicate roses and cream coloured glory.

Don’t judge each day by the harvest that you reap but by the seeds that you plant. (Robert Louis Stevenson)

Seedlings - Guenette photoSeedlings on the go under the grow light.

Gardens are not made by singing, “Oh, how beautiful,” and sitting in the shade. (Rudyard Kipling)

Cold frame - Guenette photoKale seedlings and overwintering celery snug in the cold frame.

A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust. (Gertrude Jekyll)

Overlook in the sun - Guenette photo

A chair in the afternoon sun from which to enjoy it all.

12 comments on “Pre-Spring Garden

  1. These photos really look like spring. Soon, soon! Can’t wait. Meanwhile, I have a good book to read. Am enjoying your “Maelstrom.”

    • So glad you are reading and enjoying Maelstrom. I, too, am always anxious for spring to make an appearance and have great sympathy for family and friends who live on the prairies and in central Canada. Blizzards and cold temperatures make them jealous when they are subject to my west coast weather bragging.

      • And yet there are many who couldn’t take the gray days and all that rain. For myself, I don’t mind a bit of rain (this year it has been a lot) and although I like blue skies, it comes with a price for the prairie people and east coasters. I don’t like to be that cold.

  2. reocochran says:

    Your photos were beautiful and brought forth Spring feelings in me. 🙂 The purple crocus was so vibrant. Your quotes went along well woven into the post. Thank you, Francis.

  3. smilecalm says:

    looks like an early gifting
    of beauty & tasty nutrition, Francis 🙂

    • Yes indeed! Many years ago now, we were gifted with a small packet of Russian Kale seeds given to Bruce’s dad by some family friend or relative living in Saskatchewan. We planted them and oh my gosh – talk about well suited to our area. They grew like mad. It took us more than a few years to figure out how best to utilize this prolific plant. One year, I wrestled a large kale that had gone to seed to the ground and collected a huge bag of seeds. Up until quite recently, we never had to plant kale as the volunteers from that first planting were everywhere. A friendly family of grouse in the garden the last couple of years have gobbled up all such offerings. We hope to outsmart them with this early crop in a covered cold frame. This type of kale, when small, is perfect for salads. Well – there you have it. The story of kale.

  4. MariHoward says:

    This is lovely! Musty really do a bit on the blog with my garden’s progress: we have had such an odd winter here, so mild and very very wet that spring flowers were poking out at Christmas – completely wrong! We still have spring flowers though – the snowdrops (one variety which didn’t come out early – daffs and hellebores – but the purple crocus all over! Camelias are just into fat buds ready to go in a week or so. I risked taking the fleece off them just an hour ago. Your spring always behind ours but your summer hotter!Thanks for sharing your garden and the lines of poetry etc, all lovely and thoughtful stuff.

  5. Beautiful photos, Fran. I can’t wait!

    • Thanks, Jill. The rhythm of gardening is so different depending on where one lives. Distinct planting and harvesting cycles are not so pronounced in this part of the world. I have a couple of wild sweet peas that made it through most of the winter still green and twining up the trellis.

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