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| Ruby Giant - not suppressed by the absence of spring |
I think TS Eliot would have felt his Wasteland vindicated in an Edmonton spring. Some years the end of April has been a colourful time in the Home Bug Garden and one filled with the promise of blossoms and bees to come. Or at least that's how my mixed memories and desires would have it. Not this year, though, nor most of the last few. The coltsfoot and marsh marigolds are still under the ice. The tulips and squill barely protrude from the still frozen ground, even in the sunniest beds. No dull roots are stirring that I can see.
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| Hens-and-chicks - one of the few evergreenly optimistic signs |
Winter has hung on stubbornly the last few years, as if the climate is getting colder instead of warmer. Yet, Mourning Cloaks and Milbert's Tortoiseshell butterflies have been on wing in the River Valley and the ice and snow is gradually receding to the shaded sides of hills and houses. Surely soon spring will come.
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| Pussy-toes - more or less evergreen and entirely native |
I read somewhere that winter actually started October 10 this year in Edmonton. Snowbanks are still receding in our yard and the shady, north facing areas have a ways to go yet. I did see some life this morning, however, a couple snowdrops and an emerging columbine, so surely winter is giving up the ghost? Before I forget what green looks like? :)
ReplyDeleteFinally activated the pond pump yesterday, after scooping masses of black decaying leaves out of the depths. The sound of running water is when spring begins in my garden.
ReplyDeleteFinally activated the pond pump yesterday, after scooping masses of black decaying leaves out of the depths. The sound of running water is when spring begins in my garden.
ReplyDelete