Missing My Garden Already. . . . But Travel Calls. . .

The apple blossoms tightly furled above the new leaves will bloom very soon, and the mason bees that recently broke out of their cocoons in our little mason been box will no doubt collect pollen from them, fertilizing them along the way so that there will be tiny apples growing by the time we get back home. But we won’t get to see the blossoms. Visiting friends and family will enjoy them while we’re away, but they won’t be part of our spring this year.

That’s okay, because we’ve already been treated to the blooms of. . . brunnera, tulips, snowdrops, daffodils, muscari, winter aconites, corylopsis (winterhazel), and blazing forsythia.

And magnolia stellata.

Ooh, she has put on a glorious show, from the tentative splitting of her furry buds

to the delicate blush as the blooms unfurled

to her stretching and springing outward in a sculpture of layers

and then more sculpture as she fades, ever so beautifully

 and the (potential) future seed pod is revealed. . . .

 This tree’s palette stirs me to tenderness — Benjamin Moore has nothing on its range of whites. . .

 and the tea/coffee tones that ready the petals for their descent to earth are nothing short of luxurious. . .

 But it’s easy to miss those rich toffee shades, when these antics are going on, all this bright green popping out of smaller fuzz-cases right, left, and centre. . .

And then there’s this. . .

The comic corkscrew effect. . .

 As keen as I am to be somewhere completely different by this time tomorrow, I’m going to miss watching my garden move through this spring, one that will never come again, though others will. But I’m so grateful to Ms. M. Stellata for this year’s show. . . .Hope you might enjoy it as well.

Not sure how regularly I’ll be posting here, but keep an eye out for postcards from . . . well, you’ll see. . . (actually, you’ll see much sooner if you’re following on Instagram. It’s just so much easier to post there.

xo,

f