Western Easter comes in two more days. The tulips will open a day or two later. All over the city, the flowering trees are radiant. Our chill sunny days have begun to warm and we are in the period between the flowering of most of the early short spring flowers, and then the explosion of the tall ones. The daffodils started early to make constellations about the yard, half of them, like these, replanted from cheap little pots of forced bulbs from the grocery store. The hellebores have tripled in size from the plants we bought. One was broken down last month by someone's dog running through, but the other two plants have done splendidly.
Our hyacinths also come from grocery store pots, one pt a year. The blues apparently double faster than the others. I don't know where the hyacinth the color of rayon underwear comes from -- I'm sure I would not have bought that color.
Pan has emerged from the winter tangle of fern for a few weeks of visibility before he is buried again in the new growth. He sits where it is chill and damp, and may never know that spring has come. The squirrels are constantly over him, looking for left-over hazel nuts dropped from the tree above.
The dollar-size anemones are growing in the walkway, a good two feet beyond and across the barrier from where they were planted.
The exquisite hermodactylus iris, pale golden-green and black, 8 inches tall, are opening, this one 40 feet away from where it was planted. These awe me -- I feel they should be planted on holy ground, or perhaps, they make the ground where they are holy.
A single meleagris appeared early in the week, then a flock yesterday, my favorite of the springlings, a reminder of Iliad 9, and apparently also part of the Latin name of the wild turkey, and of the guinea fowl. We had guinea fowl long ago, but apparently they were found unsuitable for eggs and food, and were discontinued when I was too young for my protests to be regarded. They -- the flowers -- have been given a remarkable assortment of names, including snake's head, chess flower, frog cup, leper lilly, and Lazarus bell.
Lazarus brings us back to dying, and Good Friday, and Good Friday is good only because of the assurance of Easter.
For a real garden blog, read Sparoza.
Happy Easter!
ReplyDeleteIt is still very cold in London, very unusual.
Kala Paschada (is that the right plural?), Pavlos.
ReplyDeleteI don't think there is a plural for Pascha but if there is I don't know what it is. Before 1583 both Eastern and Western fell on the same date if I remember correctly.
ReplyDeleteLovely, as usual.
ReplyDeleteI was told that our guineas were discontinued because they were too difficult to “catch.” In fact, they were so fast that they were impossible for the cook to catch, so Daddy had to go out at dusk with the .22 and shoot one after they had gone to roost in the trees.
And they were noisy.
They did make good “watch dogs.”
Lovely, as always, and the Lazarus bell is beautiful. We celebrate Good Friday with mulled wine and home made hot cross buns. My granddaughter came around early (7.00 am) to help me knead the dough. Belated Easter wishes to you - I love your erudite, amazing blog.
ReplyDeleteYou are a dear, Maggie. Thank you and a continuing good Easter.
ReplyDelete