The coltsfoot has started to show itself with quaint yellow sunbursts, hundreds of wood squills open every day, the yellow daffodil buds are just about to bust open, the hybrid red-sugar maple is in full bloom: it is a good time of the year, no doubt about it.
Some croci, those that are most in the shade, are still opening on sunny days, but they are to be followed by the tulip show, right now only in leaf form, but in great form if this kind of weather is to keep on going.
The ground is still soft, even saturated with water in some places, so I still tour the garden carefully, making sure my steps hit the ground flat, and lift my foot one at a time very slowly, the same way.
I have even separated some irises, those pale mauve ones from my mother's garden, the one three houses away from mine, not the one she had built across the Chambly Basin. They tend to stray down into the path in the middle of the perennial garden along the south-east side of the house. So those I transplanted nearer the wall, in gaps between the peonies. I must not forget to water them every other day until they get a good rain soaking.
The 6 foot tall Colorado Blue Spruce seedling that had keeled over after freezing rain and heavy snow is now tied in two places, braced to take a more upright stance. I hope it will restore its root system quickly enough so that I can remove the support before the new growth comes out.
I have yet to see many butterflies: a Mourning Cloak, an old one that must have just come out from hibernation, surprised me by flying right over my head and dropping down under my eyes. And the honey bees are very busy going from one flower to the next, and then back again.
I never tire of sitting outside, watching all this silently, surrounded by birds who barely take notice of me anymore. They sing, chirp, feed, hop and skip all around me as if I was part of their dance. Some have started to drink in the birdbath, and I noticed the water had been splashed all over at some point: one must have taken an early dip. And I'm glad to hear that song sparrows are back in my neck of the woods: they were not around for the past few years and I missed them. Their song makes me glad to be alive.
Spring is very uplifting, indeed!
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