Tipping point – the critical point in a situation, process, or system beyond which a significant and often unstoppable effect or change takes place ~Merriam-Webster
For the past few weeks, spring bulbs have been blooming at my feet, adding shots of welcome color to a skeletal world of bare branches and empty earth. Each day brought something new into flower.
The past few days, after warm and rainy weather, the world looks if an artist had spilled an entire palette of colors into the landscape. The skeletons of bark and branch are suddenly clothed in spring finery and the once bare earth is filled with plants rising up to meet the new canopy overhead.
The kousa dogwood reveals its delicate young leaves against the woods around it.
Vibrant new oak leaves are festooned with tassels of Victorian flowers whose pollen sifts to the ground, layering everything with a fine gold dust.
The shrubs are fully flushed out with lush green foliage and some, like this Viburnum plicatum ‘Summer Snowflake’ are beginning to flower.
A lady bug emerges into the cool morning air from the rough leaf of a Chinese viburnum, where she sheltered during the night.
Each morning when I step outside, my eyes are dazzled by the richness of the garden,
the light sifting through leaf
Scenes that were flat and dull are now filled with shadow and light,
shape and color.
I am too restless to stay indoors; I trace my path through the garden again and again to greet each new face, marvel at each new sign of life.
As the light fades in the evening, I stand on the deck for one last drink of color.
Early spring has tipped deliriously into May and each new day promises more change, more surprise, more beauty. Wherever you find yourself, may your days be spent in the beauty of nature awakening.
Now every field is clothed with grass, and every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms, and the year assumes its gay attire. ~Virgil
Love your spring photos. My garden here in Alberta is a bit behind yours! Missing in action, though, is my bleeding heart. For some reason it hasn’t even sprouted.
Thanks, Margy – sorry to hear about your bleeding heart! I love their shapes, mine seemed to come through our crazy winter weather pretty well. Enjoy the unfolding of your garden.
I’m smitten with the clean white of ‘Thalia’ against that dark background – so fresh and inviting! I’m glad you’ve reached the tipping point….no turning back….lots of work to do soon, but work that I know you relish. Looking up at the Kousa dogwood leaves is beautiful, and your garden looks like a good place to linger. I hope you had a nice weekend!
Lynn, Thalia is my absolute favorite daffodil! It emerges pure white (many emerge pale yellow, then fade to white) and has a beautiful open windswept look, very artistic. I’ve been planting all day today, in my joy and glory now that school is out and I can disappear into the garden 🙂 We’ve had thunderstorms every day but the rains settle the new plants right into the ground. Let the mad gardening begin!
Yes, that windswept look is so graceful. Oh, the idea of a thunderstorm settling the plants in, delicious! “In my joy” sums it up – sounds medieval, and it’s certainly an ancient pastime.
So much beauty in this post, Lynn. I especially like the kousa dogwood image. There is something about their branches that always draws me in.
It seemed like a slow spring for a while, but then everything seemed to blossom and leaf at once. Our roses and irises are blooming now, and it won’t be long before the peonies open.
Robin, we’ve had the same kind of slow start and then sudden change here too! In fact, everything has filled out even more since I wrote this on Friday! Warm temps and sun followed by copious rain has turned the emerging foliage into full flushes of green – it always surprises me how quickly the seasons can shift. The peonies have doubled in height and will probably bloom in a week or so. Enjoy your roses!
A few hours after I wrote this comment, I was surprised to find that the peonies had bloomed. Amazing how fast that happened. 🙂
A lovely symphony of leaf colours with flowers as a bonus. I too grow Viburnumn, my ‘Lanarth’ is looking fine here especially in the fading light of evening. Continue enjoying your spring including those moments late in the day towards evening. Like yours, I find my garden often looks its magical best then.
Richard, I agree, there is something special about the garden in the evening. The natural world settles in, the birds come for a last drink at the birdbaths, and the light gets a glow right before it fades. I imagine your garden is in beautiful bloom by now; can’t wait to stop by your blog now that I have some free time!
Yes. I love the feeling that so much is happening at this time of year. You have captured beautiful shapes – I love the dogwood photo. Also that your plants have musical references!
Ali, picked up on the musical names 🙂 Yes, I admit that sometimes I buy a plant because of its name. I have several daylilies in my garden that are named after popular songs and I find myself humming the tune when they are in bloom – music in the garden is always fun!
Such a glorious garden, Lynn! I love the viburnums.
Ours are coming to life again, too and I agree: it’s always inspiring, exciting, and new. Gardens are as necessary as air. And love. Thank you! Joy in your gardening discoveries and adventures!
Kitty, I hope you are enjoying your garden now and seeing its transformation. Yes, necessary as air is the perfect way to put it!
Every year the transformation astounds me. It truly is miraculous!
Eliza, you must be seeing the transformation in your garden too – it is amazing, isn’t it?
We complained about our crazy winter in the ‘burgh’ but are now seeing the wonderful results of all that moisture and warmer weather. Thanks for the pics. It will be another lovely garden this year!
You’re right, Graham – the weather was worth complaining about but now – so gorgeous! Hope to see you in the garden this summer.
A post to gladden a reader’s heart. Thank you.
Thank you, tootlepedal; gladdening hearts is a privilege 🙂
It’s that time of the year–and not a moment too soon!
I agree, Kerry! I hope spring has arrived for good in your area – enjoy!