Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Savor the Moments


The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud come over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
~Robert Frost~


All photography courtesy of our private collection.


The earth awakes and so do I. Spring’s cycle of rebirth stirs me into life again, just like the daffodils and the fragrant hyacinths scenting the air as they sway outside our door. I am drawn to the courtyard each morning like clockwork. Dawn breaks, and light slips quietly across the sky while I tip-toe down the rocky steps, made of natural boulders, and head into the garden’s secret room where bleeding hearts hang down in pink and white droplets next to ferns.

 I move past primroses of every color and an early blooming mauve rhododendron which stands tall and stately between pink lenton roses blooming since February. My eyes move quickly. I check for new green tips, hints of life. The rock garden, only a year old but so full of life, bears witness to the lively movement beneath the rich, brown mulch. Every clump of earth displaced by growth pushing up catches my eye. Old stalks of last year’s treasures remain as markers for our keen observation of new life.

I walk past a mound of heather, full and fuzzy in its purple haze.I see the day lilies and their newly formed leaves, lavender stalks which will soon flower, small azalea buds next to open blossoms. Further down I notice sedum which is now high above the ground, happily transforming into the full succulent plant whose blooms will turn from chartreuse to mauve to cinnamon through the coming months. Stems of Asian lilies are rising now on each side of the Japanese Maple. Campanula is green and full and waiting only for warmer sun to burst into purple blossom. The Cape Fuschias surprised me with their evergreen foliage in winter. The greenery in the cold, wet months was a welcome sight. Soon they will be heavy with butter blooming tubes like honeysuckle. Just below them are the orange Hardy Fuschias which will glow like the tips of burning cigars in the summer light. Both will feed the hummingbirds all season. Beneath the outer limits of the apple tree’s limbs the Euonymous shrubs sit with leaves mottled in green and yellow, veined like marble. They move along the lower garden path and bring yellow light to the perennial garden when the daffodils finish their song.

Large boulders dot this landscape, anointing it with status as I move down the path past the rhododendron heavy with buds, beyond the azaleas about to burst into bloom. Along the trail of bearded iris, their foliage tall and green and pointed, I reach the sword ferns and hydrangeas leafing out now, soon to be huge balls of pink, white, lavender, and blue.

My heart is beating faster as I walk. It is thrilling to see the rebirth of this land we own, this land which my husband loves even more than I do. I see his long arms in each shrub, on every tree trunk that stands proudly, now clean and open to the light from its late winter pruning.
I see his sweat in the green flora peeping forth, remember his placing every plant in these gardens last summer. Back to our courtyard, I gaze out over the landscape and remember him creating these gardens from earth and rock, removing tree trunks long dead, digging out a concrete wall buried long ago under soil, unearthing and removing dead roots, pulling weeds, chopping, shaping. These gardens are the diligent work of my husband, his labor a gift to me. I see his love of this land, his pride in the home we have made where we share our lives. It is like a portrait he is painting, done with love and exactness, with design and purpose.

I am awakened by the birth of spring in these gardens and by the love of this man whose hands untangle the plants’ tightened roots to give them life. These are the same hands which hold mine close and safe and nurture me with tenderness. It is time for me to climb back into the warmth of our bed and savor the moments left for sleep.

Too soon the sun will rise higher in the sky and call him to leave our bed to begin this day.



19 comments:

Lorna said...

All poetry, except for the beautiful images. I envy you your early start on spring. I still have snow in my front yard---just the stubborn grey pebbly stuff, but it's still snow.

gracie said...

Oh so beautiful! You have a lovely garden and a way with words that makes it so real to the reader.

MB said...

Lovely, lovely! Thank you, Sky.

Endment said...

Poetry in words and poetry in the images for the eyes. Beautiful

Suzann said...

Sky - thank you for the lovely pictures and beautiful reflection. Spring - renewal, rebirth, growth - the love of your land and the love between the two of you is precious. I feel honored to have walked through your garden with you today.

Wenda said...

Sounds like paradise to me.

Jennifer said...

Beautiful words, photos and garden. Just gorgeous!

Patry Francis said...

I feel like I've just walked through a very lovely place. Your garden is a poem.

Rexroth's Daughter said...

Sky-- Your garden is so lush and beautiful, rich and colorful. What a lovely walk you took us on. But even more, I love how you recognize your husband's efforts, how you love him for it, and appreciate the fruits of his labor. Someone told me once that plants are green mirrors. Your garden says much about your loving home.

liz elayne said...

this is beautiful. i feel like we just took a walk in your garden together as you showed me each plant, each blooming flower. this is something my grandmother would do. whenever i would visit she always wanted to walk around the yard and show me everything as it grows and blooms. thank you for sharing this and for taking me with you. i needed that my blogging friend.

rdl said...

Just beautiful! Amazing how far ahead you guys are then us in the cold Northeast.

TDharma said...

Lovely Frost poem, and so like the days for the last several months -- here in coastal central California. Lush and bright green gardens...I love to be taken on such strolls.

I also really like the transparent background of your blog...it's etheral.

here via the bums and others...glad I stopped by.

JourneyThroughLIfe said...

Absolutely amazing, beautiful and wondorous. A kaleidoscope of plants and colours. I feel like putting every one of the plants and flowers you described into my own garden!!
JTL
xxx

Tabor said...

I had forgotten how much I loved Frost in my youth. Must buy an anthology and start reading again! (Wonderful photos as well!)

Nova said...

Your words paint such a beautiful picture of Spring.

Your garden truly is a garden of love.

Much love to you and your husband.

Tammy said...

What a picture perfect garden! Beautiful work Sky :)

roger said...

what a stunningly beautiful garden!

i'm guessing that i deleted your comment about birdhouses over on our blog, when i meant to delete the spam nutcase. so sorry. our cat can't climb, so he isn't a problem. i don't think that animals will bother the birds in our nestboxes. they can't get inside and would have to lunge at the birds, risking a fall to the ground. i suppose a cat could perch on top and try to bat at a bird. we'll see. the tree swallows arrived in force and are checking out the nests.

ESB said...

just read this post.....unbelievable photos....

chosha said...

That was really lovely. I especially like the picture with the boulders - it makes for a good contrast.