Yard Sale Season and Nursery Season

Spring may be officially begun but daily temperatures are stalled. Highs flirt near sixty, lows seldom go below forty but that translates into too cold soil. Many, many of my perennials ignore the facts and grow just a little larger every day: ladies mantle, Shasta daisy, feverfew, lambs ears, lilies and lavender. The shrubs know it is spring as well: mock orange, weigela, climbing hydrangea all show signs of budding. The mint is ready to take over the world. The portulaca indoors is tiny but happy under the grow lights. I have moonflower seeds soaking in the kitchen, and desert bluebell seeds scattered on the south facing slope past the birdfeeder. Their seed packet said "two weeks before the last frost" and I believe I am there. I have been to my first yard sale of 2014 and scavenged four free cinder blocks for my compost  structure. A junk store yielded a pedestal perfect for my terra cotta yard sale find from last summer. Rhododendron maximum independence has been purchased from O'Donal's Nursery and installed. I sawed through the last of the tree seedling stumps in order to have the perfect woods path for my blind Jack Russell but I was dressed in fleece and a hat. So it's not warm, but hey, the snow is gone and there is actual green in the yard.

Rites of Spring

I have not been on hiatus. I have been in the throes of Spring which include Visiting Spring, Planning Spring, and Starting Spring. First, I spent seven days in Portland, Oregon being amazed by my Princess Granddaughter and two incredible botanical gardens. I visited Spring. Just the act of walking from 78th to 67th Street drew my eye to Spring in a place of similar latitude but such dissimilar climate. Both locations (Portland and Deer Isle) hover around 44 North. But yard after yard, garden after garden, every blossom proclaimed that frost is very old news. Oregon ain't Maine.

Under the guise of buying vegetable seeds with my daughter for her raised beds, I purchased the seeds of Phacelia campanularia, Cobaea scandens and Agastache rupetris. Bring on the birds, bees and hummingbirds.  The cubby of my desk is stuffed full with seed packets and my notebook ponders on. "Is there a place and reason for a Dutchman's Pipe???" This is how I plan Spring.

Returning from the blossoms in the Pacific Northwest to my brown and basically frozen world was not easy. The calendar is the bulwark of my being, April inches me closer to May. Reading the seed packet words "When to sow inside: 6-8 weeks before average late frost" sends me into a frenzy. I postponed my indoor planting in order to avoid seedlings that would dare to appear when I was not watching. But now I ask myself: exactly when is my last frost? Am I late from start to finish already? I began my truest rite of spring. I wet the soil medium. I tore open a packet of portulaca and devised the best way of planting such dust-like seeds. I marveled when the fourth pack of portulaca types revealed pelleted seeds. I started Spring in my kitchen in the same manner I have for thirty years.

I stare at wet dirt and wait. This is the best miracle of all.

Recent Emergers

True Spring is creeping closer a millimeter at a time. The feet of my metal chicken are totally out of the snow. Skunk cabbage is poking up. There are a plethora of articles about this plant which produces its own heat and therefore warms the ground enough to be the first thing UP and growing. I just love the colors. Dark red and yellow-y green after months of white and gray and black. Winter has its own beauty which I well appreciate. Now I am on the lookout for BRIGHT. I have also crossed the threshold of "My world is frozen - all I can do is saw and snowshoe" to "My world is thawed and I could be outdoors 24 hours a day raking and toting branches and distributing all that lovely poop-blessed straw from the geese."