THE DAYS are staying a little bit longer it seems and signs of renewal are all around.
Mushroom compost decays in the garden, promising a rich beginning for our summer garden. Tulips are rising from the flower beds and magnolias have fuzzy coats over the blossoms to keep them warm until next month. The Star Magnolia will unfurl first, with delicate white blooms. Then the tulip tree magnolia will burst forth in pink, with petals so thick and voluptuous you could serve them for dinner filled with Russian caviar.
The flowers come first and then the leaves. It's the same with the forsythia and cherry tree.
Tree peonies have dark green leaves unfurling too and we hope no February ice storms will head our way. Lenten roses are the saving grace of our garden, appearing early on with lovely blooms such a magnificent purple (in this planting anyway) and bullet-proof foliage.
The moss I brought down from the woods and placed on top of the bird feeder has flourished during the drippy winter weather and is a rich, bright green.
The small gray bird will not need the feeder, however. It has not lasted through our winter. Brought down from the skies to fall beneath the redwood tree, he lies there until he too becomes part of a little bit of everything. Insects, small mammals and soil.
I can't wait to smell the first breath of spring. Already we are hearing the noise of frogs awakening down at the creek at the foot of our street and they promise a quick return to the backbreaking work of weeding the flower beds. But it's exciting at the same time, and old promises of planting a greater variety of beautiful flowers to last throughout the summer are heard once more throughout the land.
I hope you see small signs of spring wherever you are - femminismo
p.s. The cat in the window was a photo I took at random from the movie "Love and Other Catastrophes." (please come visit me in jail)