Last year we had something like four feet of snow on the ground at the end of February (and indeed, also at the end of March … and a bit less at the end of April, unless you were in parking lots where the mountains persisted). This year, I am hard-pressed to remind myself that it is Canada, and spring doesn’t really come for another two months.
This was last year, possibly in March:
This year, things look somewhat different:
Now, the view out the window would look different in any case, as the first kitchen window is my parents’, in Charlottetown, and the second is my own, some 40km east. My cyclamen is newer than my mother’s; but it has to be said that hers is still blooming, and has been near-continuously, in the same spot.
I don’t have any forsythia on my property–yet–though I think I’ll cut some from my parents’ bush to force this weekend. The plant in the glass pitcher is a sprig of thyme I cut in late November (!), which has rooted and sent out three inches of new growth. At some point soon I’m going to need to find a pot for it. Thyme is one of my favourite herbs, and I’ve come close to using this one’s leaves many an occasion this winter, especially when it seemed as if the sprig wasn’t going to do anything at all.
Now I’m glad I left it; it will have its place in the garden-to-come in the front of the house. This, naturally, is to the side; the front door opens on nothing but lawn facing the road (and, indeed, currently has no step, as I had the massive 20-ton concrete stoop removed when the foundation of the house was being dug out, insulated, given drainage, and eventually properly graded; the stoop had been doing unfortunate things to the basement wall). The side–or front–consists of a small stoop with no handrails or porch roof or anything, leading down to a small area flagged with Island red sandstone, kept in place with a railway tie, and then the driveway.
To the left as you go out the door is an area that I have been itching to do something with since I bought the house. I didn’t plant anything there last year because of the need for the foundation people to get their heavy equipment in (though I could have planted annuals, since I booked them in July and they finally came in the first week of November)–but I did manage to get some bulbs in.
At least some of them survived the late planting. We’ll see if they survive the rest of winter:
There is something utterly amazing about looking out over my own land and planning the transformations that will come in time. I have been ordering seeds; my growing lights just came in; once I find the heat mat I bought last year (and which appears to have gone walkabout during the move), I will be starting the earliest seedlings.
I’ve been greatly remiss in writing this blog, but I have been missing it. It amazes me how many posts I have composed over the past nine months and never written, for one reason or another. Still, spring is coming, in my One Day House. I have new books and stories–Stargazy Pie is out, Bee Sting Cake is coming along nicely, and I have a handful of novellas and long short stories to come out over the next few months. I have projects to plan, to implement, and to write about, and if it is largely focused on the garden to be, well … it is winter, but I am a gardener, and spring is coming.