Cool and blustery still, but spring is coming. My garden is reemerging from beneath the wrack. These species tulips have begun to bloom since the picture was taken.
I've repaired the front wall, it fit back together rather easily. I have a theory that I was a stone mason in another life, and sometimes I wish I was one in this life too.
The spirea is opening its leaves. Soon all of its skeletal branches will be clothed in a cloak of green and gold.
Resilience is everywhere, spring peepers are all thawed out and singing loudly in the evenings trying ever so hard to attract the ladies.
No matter how delicate the daffodils appear they are tough, withstanding cold and rain, sometimes even snow, to forge ahead into a new season.
I am trying to regenerate too. As I have been attending to other chores I have let this group of experiments languish, lately they have begun to call LOUDLY. If I don't start to spend some time on them they will dry up and blow away. Ideas are like that, they start out all juicy and full of life but if they don't get the attention they need they wilt and can pass on.I'm listening to the call this time.
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