Practically every plant—vine or shrub or tree—is starting to show new green leaves.
Yes, indeed. April at its finest is pure magic!
Monday, April 22, 2013
PURE APRIL
Practically every plant—vine or shrub or tree—is starting to show new green leaves.
Yes, indeed. April at its finest is pure magic!
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8 comments:
HI GRIZZ - beautiful pictures and descript words to define the season change - the air is still chilly here - windy and brisk as the flowers and buds bravely come out of their Winter's hiding and new growth haven - seems they are braver than I as I look on from the warmth of our cozy bungalow.....
Love Gail
peace.....
We had two days of pure Spring weather Grizz, when I was able to get out into the garden and do a bit of tidying up and replanting pots. Now the weather has turned cold and windy again - very disappointing. I envy you that sunshine.
Gail…
Thank you. And just so you know, if today's weather here is any precursor of your weather there, relief is on the way. It is just lovely out—sun, no wind, 63˚F, and apt to get even a few degrees warmer over the next few hours. I hope you receive the same.
Weaver…
It was hot enough that our fans kicked on and we slept with the windows open last week…then the weekend turned below freezing! All my daffodils have wilted. But spring—and April—is never to be counted on completely. You take what you get—if it's good, you're glad, and if not—well, it's April, spring, and you didn't really count on it being June. The best news, though, is that it will change, and the general direction will always be toward those perfect days between too cold and too hot, when you can simply feel the vernal energy everywhere.
I'm "glad" you've got lesser celandine blanketing your riparian area, too, Grizz. It is beautiful, but I'm gratified to know that I don't have a corner on invasive plant hell here.
Scott…
Over the past few years, I've generally come to agree that with lesser celandine, it's a case of beauty-run-amok. An invasive being too invasive.
However, hereabouts, that's actually not so much what's happened this time around. For whatever reason, the usual lesser celandine blanket on the banks and floodplains—for at least several miles up and down the river, which is the only places I've looked—is not nearly as thick and covering. The plants themselves aren't as rank—neither in height, bright yellow blooms, or light-blocking overlapped green leaves. I'd estimate no more than 50 percent coverage/display as in years past. One corner of my side yard, which typically has a 20X50 ft. yellow "rug," is down to just a bit over a square yard. The downstream view from my deskside window—maybe 200 yards of rich banks and the lower end of the island—normally "plated" in gold, is more-or-less all green…and not the green of lesser celandine plants.
I have no idea why this has happened. It occurred long before the weekend's below-freezing cold snap. So whether it was a fickle spring in general, a specific moment at a critical stage, or a bit of friendly and understanding magic from a leprechaun who lives in a hole under the rock…I couldn't say. The lesser celandine just didn't appear, leaf out, or bloom like they normally do.
What does this mean?. Likely nothing. Just an interesting blip on the botanical calendar. You'd doubtless be pleased—though you'd probably not like all the dandelions in my yard—until I fed you some for dinner. :-)
I have missed you, Grizz... and it's all my fault.
......
I have never seen birds so active. At work alone....
The Robin's are building an impressive nest over table four. The Mourning Doves have made the mistake of choosing a pallet. The Starlings... well, there are several families... but one has taken hold in the intricacies of the garden canopy and another has wrested an old House Sparrow nest in an outdoor lamp from the original owners.
Other House Sparrows have returned to their particular lamp and the Weasley's (House Finch's) have newly moved somewhere under the canopy, as well.
If I stand outside the garden center in the morning, everyone seems to have some sort of detritus in their beak. The male Robin and Mourning Dove have become friends and search for appropriate nursery bedding together under some unhappy Burning Bushes.
Fall used to be my favorite season....
Robin…
Hey, I've missed you, too. But I figured you were busy with spring and all. No problem, though—I know you can't be writing emails or comments after long days of dealing with customers.
I must say I really enjoyed your bird report. I can't begin to tell you how many times over the years that I've spent great sessions of nature observation in places where the passing masses are simply oblivious to the little dramas and goings-on nearby. Birds in all sorts of indoor and outdoor situations. Toads feeding at night in the artificial moon-glow of outdoor shrubbery lights at Disney World, each animal arranged by order of descending size, with the biggest toads getting the best bug-catching spots closest to the bright illumination, and the smallest toads relegated to the dimmer, darker distances. And once at a busy outdoor mall, I rested awhile sipping a coffee, and watched various folks come and go as they took a seat on the bench opposite to sort through purchases, change a baby's diaper, or just chill while planning their next credit-fueled attack on an unsuspecting merchant…never realizing that the moment they sat, a mouse ran out from the bushes behind the bench to make a quick food check, dashing around, often scrambling over their toes, seeing whether they'd dropped some tasty tidbit. Nature-watching certainly doesn't require wilderness, or even being outdoors. And your comments of the behavior of the birds in your lawn and garden area are just delightful.
One thing, though, confound it—you've likely saddled me forever with your characterization of house finches as Weasleys. I already think of House Sparrows as street urchins straight from the pages of Dickens…now I've got Harry Potter involved in my mental bird imagery! Sheeeesh! :-)
BTW, I keep trying to tell you—fall is unquestionably lovely, but spring is where you find a much-needed dose of energy and hope! Spring purely shouts of love and life!
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