Let there be sun! ordered this spring day in a burst of enthusiasm, and behold, there was sun to complement the warmth of the morning. For the sun was out as long as morning lasted. And then it withdrew to its boudoir to contemplate the following days; would it or would it not deign to smile on us? But that is the near future, and for the present we made the most of the morning sun.

 

 

Jackie and Jillie followed me outside mid-morning when I flitted about here and there, taking stock of the progress in the rock garden, the garden beds and borders. The garden soil is drying out nicely. The perfect blend of rain, wind and sun did their best to hasten the emergence of early blooming garden denizens. There is, at long last bright little islands of colour here and there.

 

Although the bright tiny blue flower heads of the scilla that have naturalized wonderfully well over the years are still in bloom, the more restrained grape hyacinth bulbs are now beginning to bloom as well. And the sole snakehead fritillary has now been joined by a group of others in the rock garden. Several patches of perennial bleeding hearts, always early to bloom are doing so now.

 

 

And the uber-colonizing periwinkles have made the leap from the rock garden to infiltrate two other distanced garden beds, just amazing. They're fairly smug about it too, sending up hundreds of beaming little blue flowerheads. Who would have the heart to scold them for stretching their presence within the bailiwick of garden space allotted to other plants? As it is, they're in a constant battle for space themselves, with the equally prone-to-spread Ladies Mantle. 

 

Eventually we tore ourselves away from the pleasure of placing ornamental stakes and wire cages around the emerging peonies, roses and other soon-to-be-emerging shrubs. With this new fence that was installed last fall, I am left to wonder, since it's plastic, how the garden clematis and morning glories will fare since they cannot clamber up the plastic as they do the old wood fencing. The supports I can place for them are of limited height, so we'll see.

 

So off we went to the ravine for our afternoon walk through the forest trails. No sun, but still warm. The lack of sun while we were out didn't deprive us of the sight of trout lilies in bloom, and trilliums in triumphant red on the emerging green landscape. The creek is still high and tumbling with detritus washing downstream. 

 

When we returned home following our forest circuit, we noted more tulips opening in the garden beds at the front of the house, along with daffodils; vibrant colour in the awakening garden still patiently waiting for the reliable old perennials to shake themselves awake after their long winter sleep. I've got two rose shrubs to plant, and perhaps the next several days will offer that opportunity. Meanwhile, as I look around, my mind keeps planning what annuals to bring home, and where they will be installed.