May Showers, May Flowers

Fragrant flowers on the ornamental tree

After the Rains 

Late to arrive and late to warm, spring is slowly unfurling itself.  Many early blossoms are just now blooming; lily of the valley and columbines, lilacs and magnolias are showing off in the sun-filled day that has followed a rain-soaked week.  These plants bring patches of colour and scent to our verdant landscape which is just beginning to flourish.  So fresh, so lovely.  Ah, spring.

The scent that fills our home: lily of the valley

Buds just beginning to open on the deeply fragrant lilac

The magnolia -- an early bloomer whose flowers have since dropped

The oh-so-sweet and hearty columbine



And as night falls the sky turns a velvet shade of indigo

Images D. Sleziak

Cold Comfort

One of our newest garden additions -- a magnolia tree set against a clear, cold sky

Lately, we have been experiencing unusually cold (and frequently wet) weather.  While stalwart plants, like the magnolia pictured above, have blossomed, others, like our lilacs, have budded in a burst of warmth, only to wither from the proceeding cold.   Ah, our capricious spring.


A heavily damaged young plant seeks heat and shelter from a brick wall
 

How does a gardener cope?  Armed with a cup of piping hot, strong and black, Earl Grey tea and a freshly baked scone, one can brace for the seemingly vagrant nature of the weather while reading in the tea leaves, a foreshadowing of fine growing days ahead.

Fresh scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream

 Without a doubt, good days to come

 

 Scottish Scones

 

                 2 cups           sifted all-purpose flour

                 1/3 cup          sugar

                 1/2 tsp           salt

                 3 tsp              baking powder

                 5 Tbsp           chilled fat (shortening or butter)

                 2/3 cup          milk (approximately)

                 1/2 cup          currants  (optional)

 

         Step One:  Sift flour, sugar, salt and baking powder together.  Cut in fat, rubbing with fingers

                           to a size of small peas.

 

         Step Two:  Add currants.  Stir in milk gradually to form a stiff dough. Turn out on floured

                           board, kneading about twelve times. 

 

         Step Three:  Pat or roll out dough to 3/4 inch thickness.  Cut into 10 or 12 wedges with a sharp

                              knife.  Place on ungreased cookie sheat and bake for 15-20 minutes at 400

                              degrees (F) oven, or until toothpick inserted in centre comes out clean.

 

         Step Four:  Serve warm, split with butter, jam and cream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photos D. Sleziak, recipe Sleziak family archives (source unknown)  

Wild Child

Do you see what I see? 

Where I live, all the lawns look very much like the one pictured above: shots of green mingle with patches of dry dead growth at the yards slowly awaken to the gradual strokes of heat the occasional sunny day brings.  And nestled tightly amongst the blades of grass lies these...

The ephemeral blooms at their peak

deeply vivid, intensely fragrant wild violets.  So sweet and powerfully scented, as only an uncultivated flower can be, these clusters can be found in the old established neighbourhoods of our town. As a child each spring without fail, I picked handfuls to bring home, placing them carefully in tiny crystal glasses that graced our kitchen windowsill.  I can't tell you how thrilled I was to discover, a couple of years of ago, masses growing in our side lawn.  It was the unmistakable scent that wafted over our garden wall one sunny spring day that brought them to my attention.  We've left them spread, unchecked, on their way to a glorious carpet.  Spring has finally arrived. 

Photos D. Sleziak

Spring Fling

The promise of spring: swollen magnolia buds nearly ready to explode in profusion

In My World: The Garden

 

While the days are growing longer, the warming heat of early spring has evaded us.  There are few signs of true spring -- no flowering forsythia, no crocus in the garden, no daffodils pushing their stalks up to sky.  Today, a sprinkling of flakes is falling, but the harbinger of spring is here: bud-laden branches of the magnolia set to burst when the first blanket of warmth settles upon them.  Surely, surely, true spring is not far off.

 

Just detectable: a herbaceous peony begins its ascent

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photos D. Sleziak