Let's talk anticipation, the waiting for what-is-not-yet. Yes, I know that gardening is all about process but sometimes that process unwinds so, so slowly. On close inspection of the back quarter acre, a few twists of spring promise can be discerned.
Rows of "Black Parrot" and "Apricot Impression" tulips, fronted by minor dasystemon tulips and grape hyacinths, are emerging next to the back of the house.
Wine red shoots of peonies are cracking through the soil.
Forthysia--a shrub consisting of only a few branches at present--is budded up.
Inspired by Carleton Gardener's oculus photographs of her winter-sowing, I peeked inside my own milk jug cloche. I thought that I saw a tender sprouting mallow seed . . . but where did it go?
At least snowdrops are out along the pebbly berm of the back hill.