Gedanken Spring

The daffodils and tulips are gone, the dogwood bloom is over and the azaleas are fading. And just when I thought the spring's floral display was complete, up jumped a mysterious flower. Delicate little white things with pale yellow/green eyes protruding from a mass of grassy leaves. They're huddled in dark shadows of the flagging tulip leaves and emerging hostas. I didn't plant it and have never seen it in the 12 years I've lived here, but there are two small masses that seem to have come from nowhere. If it keeps up like this, I'll have a glorious flower bed filled with a continual bloom from February to May without having done a lick of work. My kind of gardening.

The mystery white flowers in my beds...

Ericaceae in Regalia

Crocus is long gone. Daffodils too. The tulips are played out and the dogwoods are even starting to look a bit bedraggled. Just when you think the party's over, out come the big guns. Like the final moments of Spring's fireworks display, the azaleas explode with a fury that leaves us breathlessly murmuring ooos, oohs and aahs. They hit you in the solar plexus. The drop kick you in the yarbles. In short, the just know you out.

Azaleas can make even the dullest house come to life.

Then, once they are done with their showstopping, it's time to do some pruning. And this is just about the time a homeowner needs to start the backbreaking chores associated with being a member of the landed gentry. It's a helluva lot of work for the fleeting glory of flowering shrubbery, but for some reason we do it.