Saturday, February 7, 2015

Saturday Farmer'a Market - Spring is On the Way!

Created by Heather at Capricious Reader, and now hosted by Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made on.

Take heart, my friends.

Perhaps the groundhog isn't all knowing.

There is Spring happening all over my garden right now, with promise of more to come.

The Sedum has about doubled in size from last year, and it is covered in little buds

Although there is a fair amount of pinkish red color on the plant, the flowers will bloom in an exuberant yellow color.

This is the first of my Daffodils to bloom. The rest are coming up a few at a time.  

And here, among what has been the scourge of my front garden since I puled out the grass, is some very happy Trailing Rosemary.

I've been cursing this as a sort of clover for years, but I recently discovered that it is actually Wood Sorrel.

It is still an invader in my garden, but at least now it is a correctly identified invader.

And the Rosemary doesn't seem to mind in the least at this point.

Here is a Purple Iris getting ready to open . . .

                                           Like her big sister

California Poppies are coming up every where.

And last, but by no means least, are the Oriental Poppies I put into the grass bed last year. They actually started blooming just after Christmas.

The garden still looks generally overgrown and abandoned, but there are spots of beauty everywhere and it gives me hope for the year to come. I know that I will never again be able to work it as I once did, but I don't think it will mind.
The Little Garden
- Amy Lowell

A little garden on a bleak hillside
    Where deep the heavy, dazzling mountain snow
    Lies far into the spring. The sun’s pale glow
Is scarcely able to melt patches wide
About the single rose bush. All denied
    Of nature’s tender ministries. But no, —
    For wonder-working faith has made it blow
With flowers many hued and starry-eyed.
    Here sleeps the sun long, idle summer hours;
Here butterflies and bees fare far to rove
    Amid the crumpled leaves of poppy flowers;
Here four o’clocks, to the passionate night above
    Fling whiffs of perfume, like pale incense showers.
    A little garden, loved with a great love!

from: A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass, Copyright 1912.

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