Got outside and wandered around the area nearest the house yesterday. At this time of year it is easy to feel like there is nothing out there, but if you slow down and look closely, it can be surprisingly thrilling! The hydrangea blossoms from last summer have withstood some amazing winds during this winter. As fragile and delicate as these appear, they have toughed out several days of 40 and 50 mph gusts. Perhaps I should find a way to use them for roofing shingles, because they seem better able to handle the wind....
I was pleasantly surprised to find quite a bit of garlic growing along the fence. Some of it didn't get harvested last year, so it looks as though we'll find out what second year bulbs are like.
Some of the walkways have been mulched, and they grow colonies of this fungus. It reminds me of brass bells, or maybe cliffside dwellings. I'm sure that they are very important in the lives of the fae.
The cutting celery was a huge surprise. The bunnies liked it very much last summer, and I didn't get much. In fact I suspected that it was gone. Pulling back a little debris in the garden, there it was! Can the bunnies be far behind?
One of the tiny field cresses. It has the laciest rosette, and in the chill of pre-spring it has a burgundy cast. Soon tiny stalks of white flowers will rise followed by coin shaped seed pods that will rattle in the wind.
I think this is baby cleavers. This early in the spring, my plant sense is a little cob-webbed and it takes a few weeks before I really recognize my old friends.
The chives! How strong and insistent they are as they shove their way through the grassy mat they left behind in the fall. The current cover of The Essential Herbal is from this very patch, taken last April. It won't be long before the glorious pink blossoms will host the recently awakened bees.
Athough this looks like some sort of mosslike growth, it is the beginning of the chamomile patch. The entire area is this glowing chartreuse, a very unusual shade of green in nature - at least here.
Ah.... the luscious, soft, fuzzy, and oh so fragrant first leaves of the anise hyssop. One of about 100 plants that I hope to soon transplant into their own patch. I dried the leaves last summer and was sold out by October!
There was a lot more, but these were the most exciting to me.
When I see this stuff, I can't help but notice that there is a sort of equivalent sap rising in me as the spring approaches. I'm ready to be done with this hibernation.