Blossoms from our pear tree.
These will be leaves on our purple ash tree.
The ground cover is coming alive... Hello, Creeping Jenny.
A little new with the old. Spring on the left side of the pot and winter is still holding on to the right side. Creeping phlox coming alive.
Our weeping mulberry tree is a tangle of limbs. The leaves are just starting to emerge.
The "lip-lips" are short lived but oh so beautiful. If someone could create a strain that lasted into summer they would become very rich, very fast.
Vivid!
Blooming flowers are a work in process. A bottoms up approach. These guys smell wonderful. Purple hyacinth I think I love you.
Our apple tree is singing SPRING loud and clear!
Apple blossoms. So many colors.
Apple blossoms with dainty shadows on the flower petal.
More bottoms up maturing. Pink hyacinth, I love you too!
And that my friends is just a quick peek at why I love spring....
Spring Carol by Robert Louis Stevenson
WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush,
And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush,
With sun on the meadows
And songs in the shadows
Comes again to me
The gift of the tongues of the lea,
The gift of the tongues of meadows.
Straightway my olden heart returns
And dances with the dancing burns;
It sings with the sparrows;
To the rain and the (grimy) barrows
Sings my heart aloud -
To the silver-bellied cloud,
To the silver rainy arrows.
It bears the song of the skylark down,
And it hears the singing of the town;
And youth on the highways
And lovers in byways
Follows and sees:
And hearkens the song of the leas
And sings the songs of the highways.
So when the earth is alive with gods,
And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod,
And the grass sings in the meadows,
And the flowers smile in the shadows,
Sits my heart at ease,
Hearing the song of the leas,
Singing the songs of the meadows.
And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush,
With sun on the meadows
And songs in the shadows
Comes again to me
The gift of the tongues of the lea,
The gift of the tongues of meadows.
Straightway my olden heart returns
And dances with the dancing burns;
It sings with the sparrows;
To the rain and the (grimy) barrows
Sings my heart aloud -
To the silver-bellied cloud,
To the silver rainy arrows.
It bears the song of the skylark down,
And it hears the singing of the town;
And youth on the highways
And lovers in byways
Follows and sees:
And hearkens the song of the leas
And sings the songs of the highways.
So when the earth is alive with gods,
And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod,
And the grass sings in the meadows,
And the flowers smile in the shadows,
Sits my heart at ease,
Hearing the song of the leas,
Singing the songs of the meadows.
1 comment:
What a great time to be in your backyard and watch the season emerge. I've still a long time to wait here although the aspens are just beginning to tip with fuzzies. I giggled when I saw you wrote "dainty." I didn't even know that word was still used! Sweet. Enjoy your explosive world, Dad.
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