Bright Colours of Spring

At daybreak, the grey sky opened to orange, yellow, pink and mauve.  Though I know this means more grey later today, perhaps dampness and achy arthritic joints, I relish colours anywhere I can find them.  Spring has been long coming and the usual swathes of bright flowers are nowhere to be found, not yet.

 

At least, they have not yet appeared in this yard.   I wait with the pale grass bleached by winter, the grey rock wall and the grey squirrels that explore there, the aging cedar fence broken under the weight of winter, the garden too wet to rake; wait for the fresh green of spring to push through matted leaves and the detritus of winter.

I long for the bright colours to burst open.

Photos and words are ©2009-2014 Carol Steel

A Gift of Flowers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A gift of flowers from my friend

 

 

Yard Full of Yellow

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carrying Spring

 

 

Carrying Spring

Crocus,
bright petals,
you come bearing gifts;
cups full of sunshine
spill over
with spring.

 

 

Words and photos are copyright Carol Steel.

Flower Friday

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Friday

Photos are copyright Carol Steel.

Lavender

Lavender

Lavender grows by my back door.

The way it smells, makes me want more.

I’d like to plant it everywhere;

yes, share it till it fills the air

with scent so sweet and mauve galore.

There may be those who will abhor,

who find it cloying at their core,

who find it makes them ill, where’re

lavender grows.

Is to love just one scent a bore?

Should I ask of neighbours before

I plant these flowers everywhere?

What if they breathe it in and glare

or roar at me, no more, no more

lavender grows?

This is a light-hearted response to the poetry prompt for Friday, July 13, 2012 from Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads.  They suggest writing a rondeau of 13 lines and a 4 syllable refrain, the first half of the first line, used twice.  The rondeau is arranged in 3 unequal stanzas, usually with two main rhymes, plus a third rhyme in refrain.  It’s supposed to be iambic lines with 4 stresses, but I have not quite captured the iambic cadence in each line.  The rhyme scheme is aabba, aabc, aabbac.  One of the most well-known examples of a rondeau is the poem "In Flanders Fields."

If you click on words in red in the text, you will go to another site with additional information.

Iris

Years ago, we received a gift of Iris rhizomes from a relative who was dividing flowers in his own garden.  That gift keeps on giving.  The spear shaped leaves pop up and a long erect flowering stem follows.  Soon dense clumps of Iris bloom in our garden.

We have a variation of Bearded Iris, with golden beard, purple falls and mauve upright petals.  Some summers, the wind and rain bend and break the top heavy stalks.  Some summers, all the blooms die, ravaged by storms.

This June, we are fortunate to be able to look out and see a garden full of Iris flowers.  Lucky us.

Wisteria Vine

Wisteria Vine

Our Chinese Wisteria vine is blooming.

So what?  Well…

They said it couldn’t flourish here in Zone 4.  They said it needs Zone 6 to thrive.  But here it is.  Chinese Wisteria, a three-year old plant growing on the pergola that shelters our back door.

They said it wouldn’t grow.  They said if it did grow, it wouldn’t bloom.  But, here it is.  Here it is with its sweet fragrance, twining its dark grey bark counter-clockwise around the vertical supports.  Here it is with its delicate oval leaves on waving stems 4 to 16 inches long.

We were surprised when we saw the tiny corn-on-the-cob shaped blossoms beginning.  Though we had hoped it would bloom, we didn’t think it would because all the experts said it couldn’t.  

What a delight to see the little cobs lengthen and turn purple-blue, to see tiny florets on a raceme!  And, not just one but many. There are more than a dozen stems with clusters of purple-blue flowers swaying in the spring breeze at our door.

Our Chinese Wisteria is blooming…so what? 

Well…it’s blooming, so there.

And...so there.

All photos are mine.

Life and Death in our Yard

The recent heavy winds have shorn the yard; tearing rose-pink blossoms from the crab apple tree, ripping the splash of yellow from the forsythia, scattering the bright tangerine petals of quince and pummelling the fuchsia of the bleeding hearts.

Blooms are fading and disappearing in the cycle of bud, bloom, die, bud…

Though the service berry and chokecherry trees have lost their talcum of frothy pink-white flowers, the rowan trees still show clusters of tiny cream buds and flowers.  At the front of the house, rhododendrons bloom in butter yellow.

 

The purples and mauves of lilacs scent the sunny air promising summer.

Tiny golden pansies and tipped-cup lily of the valley peek from dark green leaves.

 

The yard is dying and birthing and always evolving in this constant cycle of life that is the natural world.

Thank You

Thank you for phone calls and flowers and visits and cards. 
Thank you for rose bushes, pansies and tulips.
Thanks for making me feel loved. 
Thank you for a delicious supper and for good company shared. 

Happy Mother's Day to me!

Persistent Spring

Just when I despair that winter will never end,

within the house, signs of Spring!

Buds sheathed in rosy green,

warmed,

sipping the light of these longer days,

quenching their winter-deep thirst.

Blooms bursting joy,

ripe with sun dust,

petals translucent flesh.

And everywhere

Spring throbbing in the veins.