Finally, finally, the long-awaited opportunity to get out into the garden and do some clean-up. There was a time when the garden wasn't as elderly as it now is, and fall-clean-up meant there would be no tidying up required, come spring. Those days have long gone. Now, both fall and spring order us to commit to action to bring some order to the garden.

 

This year more than usual, the result of our having had the backyard fence replaced. In the process leading up to the fence installation, Irving had to cut back shrubbery and trees last fall to enable the installers to reach into tight places. And I had severely cut back old climbing roses, and other shrubs and trees elsewhere at the front of the house. For a relatively tight little piece of land upon which our house sits there are a lot of trees and bushes.

 

 

And everything was too wet to collect for disposal. Oh, I had bagged plenty weeks ago for municipal pick-up, before the seemingly never-ending rain arrived. The final cessation of rain and the presence of sun alongside warmer temperatures has finally now dried the greater balance of the detritus out to the point where it could be collected and stored for weekly collection. Which meant we were out for hours today enjoying the warmth and the sun, while busying ourselves in the garden.

 

 

When we finished in the backyard we turned our attention to the front. And Jackie and Jillie came with us. Just as well ours is a very quiet street of little traffic which meant that there was no action on the street to attract our little devils toward the road. They know through long instruction that they're not supposed to approach the road, but when someone walks by and we speak with them, they'll rush onto the road. Or if someone is walking a dog on a leash, Jackie and Jillie feel this should entitle them to sashay over.

 

The roses, front and back, are coming to life. The Corkscrew Hazel is beginning to leaf out. The small Magnolia in the back has some time to go yet before the buds open to huge pink flowers, but the larger, older one at the front of the house has begun its lovely bloom period. Once the tidying up in the beds and borders was done, I took a hoe and began scraping away thick moss that grows in the interstices of the brick walkway and roundabouts. And that took some time and effort.

 

Finally, we broke off, considered we'd done enough for the day, and got ourselves out to the ravine for our afternoon ramble. Warm enough to dispense with even light jackets, although it always tends to be cooler in the forest. When we were going through the rainy period the trails were deep in muck and very few people felt inclined to walk the forest trails. Today there were a lot of people out with their dogs. As many cookies as Irving armed himself with, it turned out to be not quite enough.

 

A more pleasant atmosphere and a more anticipatory feeling of coming across spring flowers can't be imagined. It's like slowly opening a treasure chest. To come across bright little notes of colour within the still-sere setting of an early spring forest is an absolute delight. We watched a Pileated woodpecker soar to the steeple of an old pine, much too distant for a close-up. 

 

We came across a fellow hiker we hadn't seen all winter, walking his dog. There are times when you just have to stop and chat awhile, and in those times there are revelations that tend to shock and move you to commiseration with the bad fortune of others. It's been at least two decades since we last saw this man's wife, but at one time she was a hiking enthusiast. He told us that on Christmas Eve she was walking up the stairs in their home and suddenly fell backward. It was surmised she'd had a stroke; the fall killed her. 

Several months later his mother died. And his two sons, now in their 40s, both long-time paramedics had a disagreement with their father ending up with straining their relationship. One of the sons, married and with no children wanted something quite unreasonable from the father and he refused. Too much strain and pressure, but he smiles grimly and says he's carrying on well. Sometimes there's more than ample reason to feel badly for the circumstances in peoples' lives.