Despite the heat we’ve had that melts butter on the counter, and the flooding that has streams and lakes rising past record levels, there is simple beauty around.
We have sardonically joked that it’s a good year to be poor enough to not afford lakefront property. My garden is well above water. We lost a few big branches from one of our lilac trees last night but that’s all. (They were waterlogged and beaten down by previous hits from ambitious woodpeckers. )
If you’ll pardon the expression, I thought I’d show the cup half full in what for many is a time of tense anticipation or even tragedy.
I hope you can smile at these the way I do. As my mom always says, “it’s important to stop and smell the flowers.” Breathe deep.
In the last week I lost my mojo. I looked daily for inspiration on writing and I came up empty every time. I haven’t been cooking anything except eggs and warming leftovers. I need to shake this off.
Our cool spring weather broke on the long weekend and we were inundated with heat. The first blossom to make a stand was a poppy.
Seeing it stand there, so striking and strong, I was encouraged.
As I approached to take a close up though, I noticed something…
I took it as a sign. I’m going to attempt not beating myself up for past behaviour and move forward. Tomorrow is another day. And another post.
We sprang forward this past weekend and at Rabbit Hollow that sentiment was taken to heart. We don’t have a particularly hard winter in the Okanagan, certainly not for Canada anyway, but there is still snow and frozen ground and cold winds with which to contend. Every year I marvel as the ground comes to life again; I feel a sense of expansiveness that is not there in winter, as the green shoots grow and the air warms. My admiration for all the new life spurs me on, too. Brighter colours seem the order of the day, so I do my best to participate.
It did my heart good on Sunday to see my first robin of the year as I awoke to Daylight Savings Time. When I walked the dogs I noticed the green shoots in the grass. As I looked closer, I could see tulips poking through the mulch and even a little viola making a brave face in the wind. Every living thing was cheering the coming of spring.
The icing on the cake was in the back yard. I noticed the forsythia was beginning to show shoots, but the lead cheerleader for the spring cause was the pussy willow. I squealed like a birthday girl with balloons when I saw the fuzzy shoots as big as my thumb, all up the branches. There was certainly more spring in my step as I continued through the orchard on our route.
I have to remember to take it easy, as spring comes slowly in Canada. I have planted garden seeds in February, to be ahead of the curve. But they can’t go outside until late April and by then they end up being stringy shoots reaching for more sun than I can offer them.
It’s not easy being green, as Kermit said. Those beautiful shoots work so hard to make it through the ground and to keep growing. If they are perennials that survived the winter, they deserve a marching band to announce their return, if you ask me. Once they’re up, they have to make it through spring rains and wind, and possibly even another frost. It’s still a long way till there are rows of green in my veggie garden. In the meantime, I will just have to keep cheering them on.
Stay tuned in future weeks as I plan out the heirloom seeds for this year. If you have any favourites you plant in your garden, I would love to hear!