Spring in my Heart

I know that the actual "first day of Spring" was on the 20th. But it wasn't for me. I have had the tickling, niggling feeling of spring in some of these warmer days. But it wasn't till Sunday that my heart burst into full joyous revelation- it's really here!

“Blossom by blossom the spring begins.”
 — Algernon Charles Swinburne

Duane and I have already planted green onions, and are planting taters, lettuces, spinach, radishes, and mustard greens this week. But still it hadn't felt time. It's just been so chilly. Not really cold, but chilled in the bones. Then on Sunday the weather was glorious and I stopped to get some pansies and violas, my typical ode to the season of renewal. I planted two pots on the porch, and also got the large hanging basket.

This basket is very special because it has just the right lavender tones of violas to go on Will and Belle's wedding cake! Two years ago I was planting sky blue and lemon yellow violas to put on Seth and Emiley's cake. These were the only lavender ones I found, and I knew I needed to grab them so I would have them come May.

Bella Cat approved of the beautification of the porch.

It was so gorgeous that I got out my peat pots and planted all the seeds that I wanted to get started early. (I took a wide view of this picture so you could see- two dogs in their beds, and a cat in it's house at the far right.) I planted fifteen different kinds of flowers and vines, plus three red poppy roots, and one clematis root. Several of the flowers- old fashioned petunias, pink mallow, soapwort, etc, came in the mail from my dear friend Angie. We met right here on this blog, and I am delighted to think that I will be able to add remembrances of her to my garden! It was warm and sunny enough out that my cheeks and neck got a teeny bit pink...

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” — Margaret Atwood

My chicken ladies were out to enjoy the glorious weather. Here is all but one, and she was off laying an egg in the hen house.

This is Henny Penny, one of my black Cochins. I call them my fluffy-butts. Isn't she adorable?

My chickens are happy old ladies, So old, that they don't always lay well. I know for a fact that some are nine years old. So, it really is time to add some new blood to the brood. I am looking to purchase some chicks from Murray McMurray Hatchery. That should be an exciting spring venture.

My sweet hubby came home the other day and told me that he had a surprise. He said it was my early Easter present, but that we needed to do something with it before then. So I knew it had to be a plant. Sure enough it is a Jane pink tulip magnolia.

My mom and pop have a gorgeous one in their yard that was planted by my great-granny. Now I have one! And already a velvety-furred bud is opening to give a hint of what is to come.

Once my eyes were opened to the reality of spring, I saw it bursting out everywhere.

“The first blooms of spring always make my heart sing.” — S. Brown

Here are wild flowers called Bloodroot, because of the reddish color of sap that comes from the broken roots.

This tiny daffodil is called minnow because of it's diminutive size.

A miniature bleeding heart.

“If you’ve never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, maybe your soul has never been in bloom.” — Audra Foveo

 Pulmonaria, or lungwort, whose flowers go through all stage of purple, to pink, to blue.

 Blue wood hyacinths have one of my favorite scents of springtime.

And even in the midst of my weedy flowerbeds, there are hopeful reminders of what is coming. Here is lamb's ear and larkspur raising their heads.

 On a trip down the driveway to cut forsythia branches, I paused to admire the swelling buds of the ornamental peach. And then I realized what a lovely visage it was to glance between the branches and see the cows bucolically grazing.

Inside, the startling yellow of the forsythia is a brilliant sign of the all the growth spurting up unseen. Today it is cold again, even with a coat on I shivered doing my chores. Spring could seem lost once again...

Except that I plucked lovely reminders to lift my spirits through the cold days that follow. They help me remember that spring is really here, and here to stay.

“In the spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.”
— Mark Twain

This is the quote in my kitchen pass-through right now. It's apt, isn't it, for this transitional time? I hope it speaks to you, Dear Reader. And if you are in an area where winter still crushes you in an icy grip, hold on and have faith. Like sunrise after the dark of night, spring will always appear...

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."~Albert Camus