Spring riot

A mad growth of everything: native and not

It rained in the night and the sky is clearing, but the sunrise was red, so we’ll see about our plans for tomorrow.

The native ephemeral, Jeffersonia, has fully emerged in the woods, and it is glorious. Gardening soulmate, Joe, and I have been nurturing it since we first identified a small clump a few years ago, and in that short time it has spread to cover vast swaths of the forest floor. Its distinctive rounded form popping up everywhere is balm to my soul. There is also native geranium, mayapple, false rue anemone (another favorite) trout lilies, and several varieties of violet—among other familiar spring faces. Soon the trillium and blood root will show, too.

My sister and brother-in-law are here for the weekend, so we will be doing some local explorations today. My sister is the artist who painted the many dog portraits around our house, and among our tasks this weekend is for her to deliver a commissioned work to a friend of mine. Auggie and Eli greeted them like family when they arrived yesterday, even though they only see them once or twice a year. Auggie didn’t surprise me, but Eli did. With the influx of so many workmen around our house this past year or so, he has become much more accepting of visitors. But I think dogs instinctively know family. Maybe we smell similar.

One of my sister’s many paintings of my dogs. This is probably my favorite. I think it really captures his soul.

My sister particularly loves lilacs, which don’t grow in her part of the country, so the timing of ours is perfect. My parents’ yard had masses of old lilac trees, and we have only a few, but there are enough to pick. Joe and I are in the process of revamping our old grove, so they had a heavy pruning last year. It will take a bit for them to fill out again, and it’s good for their health, but they’re looking a bit scrawny. We’ll plant several more this year, too, to replace the ones that died. I look for deep color and rich scent, but we lost our white one, so that may be on the list, too. Sometimes the white blooms have the richest fragrance.

I am clearly losing the battle of the garlic mustard. I see it absolutely everywhere—in every roadside, ditch, and even in parking lot islands and people’s yards. The odds of conquering it are long—if not unbeatable—but when I see it blooming in the woods it worries me, since I know too much about the devastation it wreaks upon the ecosystem. I spend so much time, effort, and money working to restore our woods, only to have this blight encroaching on everything. I suppose there’s a metaphor for life in here somewhere.

I opened the NYT this morning. Can you tell?

I think I shall take my own advice, and look about me at the many blessings of my life—and away from the garlic mustard. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have plan of attack.

Happy Friday!

”And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”~Julian of Norwich

These posts are about finding the beauty in daily life, even amid the craziness, uncertainty, and anxiety. Reality is not going away, but these are the only days we get, so we have to relish their small beauties while we have them. If you are a paid subscriber, please know how deeply grateful I am for your support. The kindness and enthusiasm of your comments buoy me and keep me writing, but the paid subscriptions are an extra vote of confidence I truly appreciate. These posts will always be free, however, so if all you can do is share, that is helpful, too. Whatever you decide, I’m glad you’re here.

And now for your gratuitous dog photos:

Auggie and Eli, each in his preferred habitat.