A greenness grew

Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. ~Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

On this first day of May, I look out the window and see green – green! – on the tree branches. Flowers have been blooming since February – snowdrops, crocus, daffodils, tulips – and their color is so welcome.  Yet when the woods light up in delicate green, it feels as if spring is complete.

The ostrich ferns have completely unfurled, refracting light through their intricate fronds

while the sunlight pouring through white daffodil ‘Bella Coola’ turns its petals translucent.

The weather has had several wild swings this spring, hot summer temperatures for days in early spring followed by deep drops into bitter cold, the process repeated again and again. Yet the plants have survived somehow, resilient and beautiful.

Parts of the garden have come fully into bloom – the grape and lemonade bed is always its showiest this time of year.

After years of tolerating our makeshift garden gate built of fence parts, I found a beautifully crafted gate to create a dramatic entrance into the garden.

Green isn’t the only foliage color in the garden now – the red Japanese maples have fully unfurled their leaves

as has the purple smokebush entwined with Clematis ‘Sweet Sugar Blues’.  Our wild violets (Viola sororia) have been blooming for weeks and are now joined by the soft blue and white blossoms of hardy geraniums.

My latest garden video traces the gradual emergence of spring and the light that shines through the garden at this bewitching time of year.

Wherever you are in the world, and in whatever season you find yourself, may you see the light shining through the beautiful things around us.

Snowed Under

“Snowed under” – overworked; exceptionally busy (The Free Dictionary)

snowy tree trunkIt has been snowing a lot lately, and I have been feeling “snowed under” both literally and figuratively.  Winter is beautiful and I love my work, but sometimes it is just too much of a good thing. I hope to resume regular posts this weekend. Until then, enjoy a few snow photos.

Snowy woods

Snowy woods

Snowy steps into the garden

Snowy steps into the garden

(all text and photographs © Lynn Emberg Purse, 2013)

A Day in the Tropics

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.  ~William Cowper 

We are fortunate to have the Phipps Conservatory, a wonderful glass house, in the heart of Pittsburgh. A visit to Phipps in the dead of winter is a treat for the senses, and members can take a tripod for photography early on Sunday mornings. Last Sunday, my friend Suzan and I indulged in a ninety minute whirlwind of intense picture taking amid the tropical splendor of an orchid show. Not only was this a great winter interlude, it was also an opportunity for me to give my new camera a workout and test the waters for the equipment I may need for my  A Year in Penn’s Woods project. The challenge of taking photos with limited space in which to maneuver a tripod and varied sources of light was useful in determining what worked with my current camera gear and what needed to be changed. I’m convinced that a few more trips to this warm green space filled with flowers will be required to continue my research this winter 🙂

Enjoy the tour of my morning in the tropics.

What, I sometimes wonder, would it be like if I lived in a country where winter is a matter of a few chilly days and a few weeks’ rain; where the sun is never far away, and the flowers bloom all year long? ~ Anna Neagle

Facing the Light

Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher. William Wordsworth

As daylily season winds down, I spend each morning removing spent blooms and reflecting on how new blossoms turn towards the light.  When I first began gardening, I was dismayed to find that the daffodils and daylilies I had planted along the paths turned to face the sun but often faced away from garden visitors.  It was like being in a hall before the concert starts and looking at the back of everyone’s head and an empty stage.  It took a while to get the hang of planting flowers with faces in the right spot, often with a sturdy shrub at their backs, so that they turned towards the light and the garden visitor.

I cannot help but see the metaphor of this, of trying to find one’s place in life, preferably with a friend at one’s back, so that it is easier to face the light. As always, the garden teaches me a gentle lesson. Here are a few photos of daylilies and other flowers with faces as the garden nears the end of the July flower extravaganza. Enjoy!

To see more photos of light in nature, visit Carol’s Light Words and Robin’s Life in the Bogs; Kerry has a wonderful series of light filled photos of the Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks of Utah in his Lightscapes Nature Photography Blog.  I will be taking a two week vacation from the blogging world; I look forward to catching up in August, the first anniversary of this blog.

All photos ©2012 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved

Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.  Walt Whitman

Abbondanza!

Abbondanza – Italian for abundance

A mild winter and a warm wet spring has set the garden awash in flowers and foliage beyond all expectation. Every day, another dozen flowers bloom for the first time – each morning is a new vision of color and texture, a subtle shift from the day before.  And the scent! Wild honey locust in the woods mingle their heavy sweet fragrance with the climbing roses scrambling along the fence, with subtler notes from the iris and cranesbills. Birds, butterflies, dragonflies, and bees of all stripes hover and swoop through the garden.  Here are some photos of the garden in the past few days.  Enjoy!

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For a wonderful essay and photos on abundance in the garden, visit Catherine O’Meara’s post “First Person, Present” in her blog The Daily Round.

Anyone who has a library and a garden wants for nothing. Cicero