Homesick for my garden


How strange to be homesick for a grey sky. I was under an unfailing blue sky for months this winter – never shovelled a flake of snow, didn’t have to battle ice like my dear friends and relatives here in Montreal. Yet, in April I got restless. I longed to hear the sound of geese returning, to see frail green shoots breaking through the wet cold ground of my little garden. The Spanish camellia bush full of pink blossoms was impressive. The purple bougainvillea tumbling over a wall made a great photo op.  Yet, the yellow mimosa made me long for forsythia. Yes, there is nothing like the humble snowdrop to make you realize how strength resides in the delicate things. The crocus that is the first draw to bees is a sign of hope. How can the victory be worth anything if there was no battle.

The downside is that I have a very ambitious fritillaria  that is almost ready to bloom and I heard rumours of sleet tonight. Time to make a little newspaper had for my darlings that waited so faithfully for me.

Nobody told the Bees



It will snow in two days time but yesterday my crocuses were invaded by bees.  They even tried to get up into an innocent snowdrop. Can you see the three bees in the picture? They’re quite small and I wonder if they are Mason Bees.  Now I’m showing off that I know about different types of bees, but of course, I don’t know much. Trivia Queen!  I know they are small and that they don’t make real hives.  Mason bees are like the shy insignificant cousin you never really got to know and bumble bees are like those big old flashy aunties who give  you big kisses and ten dollars when it’s your birthday.

I found  a caterpillar yesterday too when I was “cleaning up” the yard.  It was one of those black and brown fuzzy ones.  I put him safe in some dried up grass and twigs.  Hope he sirvives the snow.  April tomorrow.  How much longer can it be?  Bee kisses to all.