Cold and rain gave way to warmth and dense fog, wrapping the magnolia tree in softness, muting sounds and sights and colors. A welcome stillness after pummeling rains and suffocating snows in Central and North Iowa. Takes me back to New England in spring time. The earth smells different in fog.
Sometimes projects don’t materialize that way we envision, in spite of planning, “good intentions”, and hard work. So, I’m re-working the entry that I had labored over, installed borders, poured money into with “steppables”, and diligently weeded several times a summer. Pilgrims won’t likely notice all that much. The stepping stones stay, the “compass rose” table top step from Grandon Woods is clear of growth. But, I’ve seeded in the rest and will just mow. (My very unfavorite activity). I think the pretty little violets will be able to compete to add spring sweetness to one’s walk.
The birds enjoy the labyrinth and the blossoms have lasted far longer than I expected they would in spite of the wind and rain. Jenny Herron’s Pulmonaria are up. Wendee and Les’ iris and fragrant shrubs have growth. Carol Gorman’s Shasta Daises are spreading. Solomon Seal from 2900 First Ave. SE seem to have survived the transplant and harsh summers. So, another season is upon us.