limestone and maples: February 2013

Hello again everyone.

I am shocked that it has been so long. The last time I wrote I was heading out to the garden almost one year ago. And there I did stay for quite a while. One project led to another...

Stones were pried from the ground, walls were built, plants were divided, pruned, moved, deadheaded. Then 32 weeks of teaching began followed shortly by a drought unlike anything I have experienced before. By the time October rolled around I was one stressed out, tired, sunburnt garden warrior actually looking forward to the relief that a winter respite would bring.

I rejoiced when fall finally allowed me to put away the garden hoses, sprinklers and pumps, to empty the very large collection of rain barrels and water tanks, to put to bed a garden that was looking as battered as I felt.

But, as the saying so wisely goes, that was then.

During the winter I dedicate my time to lesson planning, marketing, designing websites and compiling new safety training manuals for my husband. With the end of February upon us I am ready to relinquish my position at the keyboard and create with plants instead of pixels.

Though I have not forgotten the torture inflicted by the weather last summer, the pull of the seasons has me ready to start anew, to hope, to plan, to dream of sun-filled days blended with enough rain to see us through.

I am so craving the perfumes of freshly turned earth, sweet spring breezes, laundry blown clean on the line. I long for the sweet faces of violas, the tiny cabbage-like buds of sedum, the curl of the fern under the shade of the twisted maples. Yet the garden still sleeps and impatience will not hasten the arrival of spring.

So to celebrate the garden blues, literally, I choose to share some of my favourite azure beauties. Blue in the garden is restful, a wonderful classic compliment to whites, a pastel friend to pink and mauve, and stunning when paired with vibrant hues of orange and yellow.