A March moment

Posted on March 9, 2022 by composerinthegarden

Our life is March weather, savage and serene in one hour. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Even as I prepare a series of posts about the evolution of the garden, I am drawn into the drama of March weather. This past weekend was gloriously warm and sunny, full of blue skies and singing birds.

The light through last year’s hydrangea blossoms was magical and the colorful sunset above the bare trees inspiring. But soon the wild winds of March blew in from the west, bending and creaking the bare trees. A day later, the snow began to fall, enormous fluffy flakes that coated everything in a magical layer of white. Never mind that the winter had already expressed itself in snow and ice many times, the effect was charming and worthy of a short video.

The snow melted by mid-afternoon, leaving the spring garden tasks visible once again, awaiting my pruner and loppers and shovel. And so March goes, an unpredictable yet compelling time of the year, promising so much for the months to come.

March is the month of expectation, the things we do not know.~ Emily Dickinson

The Lion Roars

Posted on March 6, 2015 by composerinthegarden

March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb. (old proverb)

The month of March has carried the winter banner forward – snow, a bit of rain, and more snow. Bitter temperatures come and go – at least the garden is covered by a deep layer of snow, tucked in safely for the season. For most of us in North America, the winter has been long and difficult and I, at least, long for the return of spring.

The garden is asleep, as witnessed by Zelda peering out from her wintry cap. (here is Zelda in warmer times) Snow whiteouts have become common, spectacular and ghost-like. The world is gray and white and brown but I am dreaming of color. To satisfy my need for the hues and vibrancy of the garden, I have begun spending the first hour of each day watching YouTube garden videos. They remind me that the garden season is not so far away and I am inspired to plant seeds, propagate plants, and dream of the days to come.

I am looking forward to the “out like a lamb” part of March. Warmer weather is predicted next week, so perhaps spring really is at hand. In the meantime, winter, however unwelcome, is still a beautiful season. (All images ©2015 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved)

The March wind roars like a lion in the sky,
And makes us shiver as he passes by.
When winds are soft, and the days are warm and clear,
Just like a gentle lamb, then spring is here. ~Anonymous

In Like a Lion

Posted on March 1, 2013 by composerinthegarden

In like a lion, out like a lamb. (weather lore for March)

It is my great hope that the saying runs true this year, as more snowy icy weather has arrived with March here in western Pennsylvania. The woods and garden were undeniably lovely this morning as Angel and I rambled about. I spoke on “Fun With Color” to a master gardener’s graduation dinner last night; my inner vision was still filled with all of the color saturated garden photos in my presentation and I dreamed of the garden in full bloom last night. How startling to carry that colorful inner vision into the morning world of white and gray and brown! Nevertheless, the grainy snowfall fell gracefully against tree and stone and I could not but help admire nature’s monochromatic beauty.

Click on any image to start the gallery view.

Snowy rocks

Snowy steps

Snowy garden

Snowy woodpile

Snowy leaves

Snowy tree

Snowy tree roots

Asleep for the winter

Coffee, anyone?

To see some of those color-saturated garden photos, explore the Flower Portrait and Garden Photo galleries in the Photo Gallery Section.

For another March lion celebration, check out Carol’s Friday dance post featuring Miriam Makeba.

Waters of March (Águas de Março)

Posted on March 18, 2012 by composerinthegarden

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It’s the promise of life, it’s the joy in your heart – from “Waters of March” by Antonio Carlos Jobim

The Waters of March (Águas de Março ), written by Antonio Carlos Jobim, reflects the end of summer, which is March in Brazil. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, it suggests the beginning of spring, “the promise of life in your heart”.

March is here and is it full of the promise of life. As I bend again and again to weed and clear the detritus of winter and uncover the emerging blooms and greening leaves, I hear in my mind the lovely repetitive melody of this sensuous and philosophical song by Jobim, the composer and musician who made Brazilian music accessible to the rest of the planet.

The Waters of March was originally intended to list the passages and events of life that flow and ebb and culminate in the waters of March, a stormy and wet time at the end of summer in the southern hemisphere of Brazil. In the northern hemisphere, March is also stormy and wet but also the beginning rather than the end of the growing season. As the rain and storms bring us green leaves, bird song, and early blooms, we can consider the beauty of the song and the reality of nature’s astonishing gifts of blossom and promise. Here are a few images of new life in my garden this week, a stream of life in the waters of March.