Is there a gardener living who doesn’t dream of what a new garden season can bring? Our long winter months in the American north encourage that dreaming. The sharp changes from warm to frozen and back again inspired me to freeze some hellebore buds in ice to reflect this spring’s crazy weather. 
The seeds I ordered by Christmas were planted indoors under lights and outdoors in wintersown jugs by early February. 
Lists of plants were made and remade, then ordered – they are now arriving almost daily. 
The garden slowly evolved from its late winter glow 
into early spring bloom 
and then into vibrant spring color. 
The weeping cherry in the center of the circle garden bloomed early 
and profusely.
As always, it was alive with hungry pollinators looking for a early meal. 
Gradually it released its petals as the greens of the garden emerged,
followed by fragrant purple sandcherry blossoms perfuming the air near the deck. 
My biggest garden dream this year is to plant several new woodland garden beds with all native plants. For the past three years, I have been systematically removing invasive plants in the woods and plants that are not pollinator friendly in the garden beds. My longterm goal is to have 70% of the garden plants be native (the woods are already 90%). As I increase that percentage each year, more insects and birds take up home here and grace the garden with their presence.
I’ll be tracking my progress this year as part of a collaboration with some YouTube garden friends as we each pursue and document our garden dreams over the year. Here is my first installment of the video series, let me know what you think below in the comments. Happy garden dreams!
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. Jane Eyre
Next year, those changes should be more evident in the number and diversity of insects and birds yet still add beauty and balance to the garden.
Pixie decided to erase the error by breaking her year-long record of no counter-surfing; she was feeling left out of the festivities and grabbed her own piece of cake. 
Honestly, it was a day of hilarity and celebration, from the time we removed the cake from its box and started giggling, toasted the day with Prosecco, reminisced over our wedding album photos, and laughed at Pixie’s antics. Forty-four years of loving and laughing has brought its own point of equanimity to our marriage.
When I awake tomorrow, the earth will be poised on its seasonal moment of balance. May you find joy and balance in your days ahead, no matter what comes your way. Happy Equinox!
I’ve had my hands in the dirt (well, dirty gloves) all summer, leaving little time to write or share until now. 
In July, my garden was on a garden tour to benefit a local library and I taught a class in it for 
amid a new set of glass globes in the blue garden. 
The garden in August is as much a garden of creatures and sound as it is of flowers. As the flowering season comes to a crescendo, the garden becomes a “last chance buffet” for every creature gathering food stores for winter or for migration. The cicadas buzz in the woods throughout the day; in the evening, the frog chorus breaks out into pulsing serenades of courting. Bees of every size and shape buzz around the richest sources of pollen, butterflies flitter and float through the air and compete with the bees for flower landing space, hummingbirds visit every tubular flower for nectar. This is the time of the year that the gardener needs to step aside and enjoy a ringside seat to the panorama of life in the garden. Here’s a sample of the frog chorus at night. (Audio recorded and edited by Bill Purse) 
Every garden is a work in progress and changes over time. I have been gently steering my garden toward one that supports winged life – this year it was certified as a Pollinator Friendly Garden through the 
composerinthegarden 