The End Of Perky

Testing, testing, testing. A diagnosis of lung cancer has been confirmed. I won't be doing a cancer journey blog. It may get mentioned from time to time. I suspect the number of posts will dwindle since walking the gardens is difficult when you can't breathe. One more test to go and the first appointment with an oncologist is on April 7th. The waiting for some actual treatment is not fun.

The last two rounds of cold in the teens and low twenties did very little freezer burn. Daffodils like rhododendron curl up in the cold and that has a tendency to snap the flowers stems making it impossible for them to stand back up. The show of perky daffodils is mostly over. There are many more yet to bloom, so it is not totally over.

Spring continues on. The early trilliums have started to rise and they were unfazed by the frigid temperatures.

The Trout Lilies also ignored the cold as they must, being one of the very first spring ephemeral wildflowers. Their spread through the garden has been dramatic.

The snowdrops have been multiplying abundantly too. The original clumps are getting fatter and seedlings are appearing some good distance away. My heiau may be about as big as it is going to get. Like sands in the hourglass, these are the rocks of the heiau.

Some damn varmint dug up the chionodoxa bulbs right after I planted them. I wasn't sure how many would show up this spring. It looks like I got a good take. This isn't the more prolific multiplying plain species though. Maybe they will surprise me.

This is what I like, when one becomes many. Trillium luteum keeps expanding.

Farewell Miss Collar

She was loved, a one human cat her entire life.

Back into the blue asters we wander.

Back into the earth that made us.

Down to the Great Lawn where the earth is deep and soft.

Farewell Miss Collar. You were loved with a posh life in the forest. There can be a memorial fire on another day. I need more sticks. They will fall, and the weather is turning cooler.

Button and Dinah had a chance to say goodbye. Then they ventured down for the burial.

Through the looking glass

That is where you will find her.

They buried cats with the Pharaohs.

Back into the blue waters.

Into the firepit bindi of Creation. 

Then the sticks fell in a mighty blow and the power went out for over twelve hours before I could finish the post. There will be sticks to pick up. Lots of sticks and branches.

Farewell Miss Collar. Into the blue asters we wander.

Time

Like sands through the hour glass

These are the rocks of my heiau.

I See Crocus

The rain has been warm. The big yellow pot is still frozen. It will drain again in the spring.

Rain and cloudy skies do wonders for my secondary cataract eyeballs. I can see snowdrops far off in the wet.

It was warm enough after the rain for Button to go out for a walk with me.

To see the Witch Hazel in bloom which much to my annoyance has a visible browse line. Damn varmints.

At least it is from last year's browsing. I can't see any signs of flower consumption this year. The new branching that caused below the browse line has not had the branch tips chewed off ... yet.

The wet really makes the colors of the Under Garden of winter pop. It was like oh yes, that is what seeing color is supposed to be like. I love this picture of the garden. The Lay of the Land.

They are out there.

I see crocus. I also saw a black and white tuxedo cat running down the drive when I pulled in one afternoon this week. The markings were a bit unusual. Here kitty, kitty. A bit later I realized it was probably Pepe Le Pew. Here kitty, kitty. That makes me Mr. Magoo.

Outside

Weed whacking wet weeds and grass is not high on my list of pleasantries. Passing showers delayed that activity for today. But not bad for chaos.

Maybe it will happen tomorrow.

It is amazing what that one little element of order can do in making the wild cultivated gardens feel a bit civilized.

If civilized can be found in a pile of rocks.

Unmowed.

The flowers are still out there to enjoy.

The view from the Great Lawn is a good example of the defining and calming power of a good mowing in a tall meadow.

Everybody likes freshly mowed paths. Maybe it will happen tomorrow.

The Snowdrops Were Still There

The temperature rose and stayed above freezing. The sun came out for another day. A melt began in earnest. 'Diane' was ready for business.

 

'Diane' and 'Jelena' together. They are much more impressive from the front porch when the sunlight hits them in the morning. They glow.

This is mud season. The top layer melting on frozen ground. Slop is the operative word.

And the snowdrops were still there.

They have been multiplying and self sowing in quantity. 

One day soon the heiau will be awash in a drift of snowdrops.

'Jelena' was in full petal unfurl.

See the bug?

'Arnold' peeks out. It's time.

Time for me to get up and get moving. The chop and drop needs doing before the bulbs arrive. It just needs to dry out and stop raining.

Several Shiny Objet de

This way.

It was the Posh Estate after all.

Perhaps I can find a spot for some Tatarian Aster for the new owner this spring.