I'm sharing this picture of a bee in my backyard crocus drift because it's too lovely not to.
Bee in Crocus Toronto |
I'm sharing this picture of a bee in my backyard crocus drift because it's too lovely not to.
Bee in Crocus Toronto |
The first day of spring is always exciting. I was doubly excited this morning to discover that the first tomato seeds have sprouted. Brandywine Red, an heirloom tomato with large fruit, and Petit Bec, a slightly larger than cherry-sized tomato, have each produced seedlings.
Brandywine Red has sprouted in my kitchen window |
Marvelling at the timing of the tomatoes, I found myself thinking, "It's like they know." I figure tomatoes must have a good sense of season, far beyond the soil and sun that signals to them that it's time to start growing. I think tomatoes also have a good sense of self. They are confident in their purpose. We should all be so lucky. My unfurling seedlings, rising up, unfolding from the soil, and reaching for the light on the first day of spring inspired this poem.
It's Like They Know
Petit Bec will produce a large cherry-type tomato. My seeds were quite old, so I am exceptionally impressed by their growth |
Snowdrops have made their first appearance in the garden. The botanical name of these diminutive bulbs comes to us from two Greek words: gála meaning "milk" and ánthos meaning "flower." The resulting mash-up is the source of Galanthus.
Galanthus. I find myself saying the name over and over again. It's really quite lovely. Galanthus. Galanthus. Galanthus. It's a name that strikes me as worthy of a righteous leader. A leader of mythic proportion. If I were to create a hero, I would use the name Galanthus. My musings about the name got me thinking about the leadership role these small bulbs play in the late-winter garden and inspired a poem.
Snowdrops (Galanthus) in my backyard Toronto garden |
Galanthus
First born of weary, waning winter
With courage fierce, pierce the snow
Sundering terra from frost's cruel clutch
Renascent ruler of burgeoning spring
Toiling for light, resplendent, milk white
Nourishing ravenous captives, liberated anew
Verdant victor, slayer of inhospitable season
Your vernal vigour heralds hope
Soothing convalescents with salves of inflorescence
Humble woodland servant, saviour of revival
Bow now your nodding head and rest
Restored and freed, awakened are we
In Toronto, watch for snowdrops in bloom starting in early March and sometimes even late February. As the common name of the flower suggests, snowdrops aren't bothered by snow. As such, they lead the way in announcing spring's imminent arrival every year.
Happy Gardening!
For a hobby so focused on nurturing plants that emerge from the earth, gardening can produce a lot of waste harmful to the planet. Many a gardener has been overwhelmed by the sheer number of plastic pots in their backyard shed. Fortunately, when it comes to seed starting, there are lots of eco-friendly options. Last year, I used eggshells, which proved to be a great success. This year, I'm going to see if toilet paper rolls are up to the task. Creating the containers is fun and easy.
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