The cutting garden is filling out with spring green in all shades and textures. Narcissi and tulips are waving cheerfully from all over the farm. I love their simple beauty and can barely bring myself to cut them into bouquets. Hyacinths are announcing themselves in perfumed strains on the breezes. The hellebores are holding up their drooping heads alongside the vincas and newly emerging violets. The bleeding hearts are in early bloom, the peonies and aquileas are reaching skyward. Everywhere flowers are beginning to emerge, welcoming this new spring.
The dahlias have woken from storage and tuber orders sent to all corners of Canada. I sometimes wish I were going with them! I’ve started to plan which dahlias are getting planted where this year—all 800+ of them. The 85 rose plants are leafing out and I can't wait to embrace their scented beauty. The ranunculus are starting to emerge from their spring bed, and soon their sleepy heads will be reaching for the sun. The anemones are not far behind. The Valerians have begun their march across all of the garden beds striking new territory; their only rival is the Fennel.
The orchard is alight with frothy pastel petals—the sound of bees, drowned out by frog chorus. The hugel bed has shrunk another foot in height. I sometimes imagine what it must be like underneath it, six feet deep in the ground, filled with alder logs and branches, water and compost for years. The blueberries alongside the hugel bed are budding and the first blossoms ready to burst forth. Everywhere life is bursting forth eagerly.
As an overachiever and perfectionist, I am finally becoming accustomed to the rhythms of the farm. We’re beginning year four. It’s taken me this long to realize that I’m like the plants. The spring fills me with fresh energy, with the promise of the fruits of summer and fall. I bask all summer long in sunshine, the heavenly scents, colours and textures of flowers, the sounds of birds and bees and soft breezes. I share my gardens with fellow flower lovers coming for workshops and garden tours at our magical farm. I am in my element; I am growing along with my flowers.
I know in my heart that there is nothing more important for me to do than grow food for pollinators, and beauty for human souls. By the time fall arrives, with winter on the doorstep, I’m completely exhausted. I’m ready to go under, to die a death of exhaustion, to hibernate, to regain my strength and await being reborn with hope and renewed energy come spring.