Signs of Spring

'Tete a Tete' miniature daffodils blooming at the corner of one of my hillside flower beds.

'Tete a Tete' miniature daffodils blooming at the corner of one of my hillside flower beds.

Signs of Spring

When I think of spring, I imagine two favorite signs now connected by a thoughtful gift from an East coast colleague that shows up with the first early spring flowers.

We had worked together a few years back. When we were on breaks or sharing a meal, we enjoyed comparing notes about our very different gardens.

His was an east coast, meticulous garden inspired by formality and precision. He had clipped topiary Boxwoods, manicured Weeping Willows and dramatic Drooping Cherry trees. I used to tell him his garden sounded just a tad sad based on his description, did he have anything with more of a happy sounding name planted anywhere?

By comparison, my Missouri limestone hillside garden was a riot of easy to grow native redbuds, dogwoods and compact fruit trees sprinkled with anything that bloomed throughout the growing season, even weeds. No grass to mow. Ponds, lots of birdhouses, bird baths, benches, butterflies and bees, “quite a busy place” he used to say. And frogs. Lots of frogs, all shapes and sizes but my favorites were the spring frogs.

Frogs, he would say, as if the concept was brand new to him. I gathered nothing went into his garden without advance permission.

A Missouri spring peeper frog resting on my back ladder between making joyful noises.

A Missouri spring peeper frog resting on my back ladder between making joyful noises.

Little frogs called spring peepers, I would add. Tiny grey frogs with a big presence, they make a resounding noise on the first warm spring-like day, everyone knows just when that is, at times it is in the middle of winter. The sun will come out, the day will warm up and so will the frogs. One won’t be able to hear one’s thoughts for the racket it’s quite special.

We would go on with our official business and when talk turned back to gardens, the conversation would come back around to the little frogs, which apparently they don’t have on the East coast. Or if the do, they must sing much more quietly in his garden.

So what do these little frogs do, he once asked.

Well, I said, giving it due consideration. They swim in the water in my empty flower pots. They hang out in my rain barrel. They sit under plants. They suction cup themselves to my windows and drive my cats crazy.

I mean, do frogs have jobs, he asked.

Why yes, I said. They eat bugs.

And peep?

Yes, they peep, usually in spring, when daffodils much larger than they are bloom.

(I didn't say it was scintillating conversation, now, did I.)

Another time I showed him a picture of one of my frogs. I have a couple living in a rain barrel. I wanted him to see what they looked like just in case he found any on his property. He nodded once he took in their size and coloring.

So when I opened the box of miniature daffodils with his return address, I knew exactly why he sent them. They were for the spring peepers, teeny tiny daffodils for the small frogs he knew I had in my garden.

Welcome spring!

Charlotte

The Glory of Gardening

One of my favorite spring flowers, bleeding heart, greets visitors next to my front door.

One of my favorite spring flowers, bleeding heart, greets visitors next to my front door.

"The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just the body, but the soul."

— Alfred Austin

I was thinking about how gardening has shaped my life over the years. I chose not to live in places where I couldn't have clean water, clean air and a place to garden. Not that pick-axing the side of a MIssouri limestone hill is easy but, after more than 30 years, we have a rhythm of sorts: I build a hole, add amended soil and add a plant. Then we both wait to see what happens.

Sometimes the plant adopts well, other times it can literally take years for the roots to have enough energy to see light.

Doesn't matter if the plant is native or not, it's all about giving the plant time to adapt to its growing conditions. How many times do we see people trying to survive in the wrong career, wrong relationship, wrong place?

I am blessed I have the right place, for me.

Charlotte

The Beginning of a Missouri Spring

Spring 2016 started with a 1" dusting of snow on Bluebird Gardens.

Spring 2016 started with a 1" dusting of snow on Bluebird Gardens.

There is a popular saying in Missouri. If you don't like the weather, wait, it is bound to change. The prediction was most appropriate the first day of spring 2016, which kicked off the new season with large snowflakes covering my one-acre hillside garden.

The snow was lovely blanketing my daffodils and flowering compact dwarf fruit trees. My compact dwarf apricot trees at the entrance to my herb garden were in full pink bloom, a startling contrast against the large white flakes.

I turned away from my windows long enough to make my breakfast of oatmeal and tea. By the time I settled back into my window seat, the snow was gone. For a second, I honestly thought I had dreamt it.

Charlotte

 

Welcome, Spring!

One of my honeybees visits a blooming dwarf apricot tree in bloom March 20, 2016.

One of my honeybees visits a blooming dwarf apricot tree in bloom March 20, 2016.

Welcome Spring!

"I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden." — Ruth Stout

There really is something about spring in a garden. No two days are the same, plants seemingly transforming themselves overnight unfolding promises of delicious treats. My compact dwarf fruit trees are adding a beautiful pink tone to my garden, a prelude to the redbud pink of native Missouri trees.

Can you tell I love spring?

Charlotte