Yesterday I went to Greenfield to hear a talk by the charming Ed Himlan of the Massachusetts Watershed Coalition talk about rain gardens, but we didn't have to stand out in the rain to enjoy it and learn. Did you know that the major cause of pollution in our waterways is from rainwater runoff? More on that later. During my drive about town I admired the forsythia in bloom everywhere. It hurts me to see bushes pruned severely…
These daffodils are growing into a rose bush - or the bush is growing into the daffs, I'm not sure which. These bulbs were here when we moved in 30 years ago. They are unusual in the slim pointed 'petals' of the perianth, and the fluffy doubleness of the cup. There is also a slight greenish tinge in some petals which I enjoy. I have Kathy Purdy to thank for identifying these daffs which are an heirloom variety…
The main task for these past few beautiful days has been setting up the new garden in front of the house which gets protection from the wind, and sun early in the season. I thought I could plant hardy vegetables here and start my harvest early. Once again I used the lasagna method of starting a new garden. First I put down old chick house cleanings in lieu of finished compost. We did not get chicks last year…
On April 1 I made it down to 'The Orchard', a term we use very loosely, and found that the snowdrops were up. But the snow lingers in the orchard, and we rarely go down there early in the season so . . . . I dug them up, in flower, and moved them to the Herb Bed in front of the Piazza. Deborah at Kilbourne Grove recently posted about getting a gift of snowdrops 'in the green'…
Finally, I was able to use the solar clothes dryer! The sun shone and temperatures are rising. The daffodills under Miss Willmott lilac have started to send up shoots. When I cleared away dead foliage I could see that the Lady's Mantle, alchemilla, has a lot is going on. The snow is gone from below the vegetable garden, and there was only moderate squelching across the lawn to see the snowdrops. My very first blooms.
April 5, 1974 The air was soft, the ground still cold. In the dull pasture where I strolled Was something I could not believe. Dead grass appeared to slide and heave, Though still too frozen flat to stir, And rocks to twitch, and all to blur. What was this rippling of the land? Was matter getting out of hand And making free with natural law? I stopped and blinked, and then I saw A fact as eerie as…