They're here!

My jasmine is finally blooming!
I've had it for almost a year, and last summer it offered just two blossoms.
This spring it's covered in buds and I've been watching and waiting,
looking at the buds each day, guessing which will open first
and trying to imagine their scent.

This morning I saw the first two,
ethereally beautiful and the soft and moist air.

By the time I came back out with my camera just before lunch,
the first blossom's petals were already tinged with rust.
Now that night has fallen, so have my two flowers,
but two more have opened to take their place.

Then I saw that the blue duranta was blooming, and that the bougainvillea had set out flowers as well.
They trembled in the breeze.
It's amazing how quickly flowers come and then fade.
I look away from my plants for a minute, and they change.

What pleasant surprises have you had lately?
What are you waiting and hoping for?

Three Walks

I've had a few weekend walks 

in the City Where the Water Bends 

over this winter and this spring.

I've watched the light begin to peek

out from bare branches

and around the corners of row houses,

and watch life begin to burst at the seams. 

On my first walk, in February, the light

was still sharp and hard.

It was cold, relatively speaking;

leaves were dark and held themselves stiffly,

not wanting to give in too much.

On my second walk, on Easter weekend,

the light was round and golden, billowing

and the plants had given in, covering themselves with flowers.

The sun pushed its arms in through windows

 and leaned up against walls, 

full of rejoicing.

Then, this weekend,

it was summer,

we were sure.

Do you like to take walks?

How do the places on your route change as the seasons pass?

What do you think about while you are walking?

Thievery!

Yesterday I debated picking and eating my strawberry, but decided to give it one more warm afternoon so that it could reach perfection.

Apparently I'm not the only one who thought it was perfect.

Some bug, some worm or slug, thought so too.

My patience was rewarded with a giant bite ripp'd unjustly from my berry's side!


What garden mishaps have you had?
Has anyone (human or insect or animal) every stolen a treat from under your nose?

Flowerbudding

My garden has a lot of potential.

This strawberry will be ripe any day now. Maybe tomorrow? 

It'll be my first one, but I can't take too much credit for it: 

there were already unripe berries on the plant when I bought it.

Then there is another on the other side of the pot with just a tinge of pink. 

I'll take a little more credit for the second berry when it's ripe.

I don't want to jinx my plants by blogging about them,

but some are getting ready to flower.

I'm excited about the ones that have overwintered, 

like my blue duranta and jasmine.

I'm really excited about my hibiscus: it's come back from death's door

where it went after some spider mites found it.

My boss gave me some organic orange scented oil,

and that was the miracle cure. 

I have some new blooms, too.

Their buds are like little beach balls.

These fuzzy little leaves catch the dewdrops.

And these will be good with the tomatoes that will, if all goes well, grow.

I love this diaphanous flower, too,

and the twirling, unfurling leaf of my canna.

I'm feeling so excited and joyful when I look at my little garden.

Does spring make you hopeful?
Is there anything about nature that brings you joy?

Des vélos

I never ride my bike in Shrimp Town.

The roads are flanked by rocky pull-overs,

ditches with crawfish and wild thistles.  I find the roads 

beautiful, as do the egrets who wade there, I am sure,

but my hometown spoiled me with its wide and flat bike lanes,

and I'm scared to ride here with ditches on one side and

trucks barreling past on the other.

But when I see a bicycle I feel a little twinge

guilt that I don't ride mine

or joy remembering the whirring sound the wheels make.

I think they are beautiful, too.

I see them often in the City Where the Water Bends,

some old, some new.

Some have been ridden more recently than others.

Who are they waiting for?

Where will they go next?

My bike waits, too.

I might get up the courage to ride it around again.

Do you have a bike?
Where has it taken you?