Judging from this neighborhood creek one would think we are flush with water. Not so. A drive out to the county reservoir revealed this. One does not really anticipate sand bars in the middle of a reservoir in March.

My jaunt was followed by a stop at the county water office where I was informed that in spite of days and days of continued unexpected rain we are still far short of our annual needs. We have 17″, not our usual 37″. Yikes!

Fortunately, as is so often the case, with the much needed falling rain comes much needed beauty, locked irrevocably arm in arm. The stuff of life is bursting around here!

First came the red camellia, which actually did open at Christmastime, as it was advertised to do. They are rather on the wane, but still flourishing sufficiently to offer us this treasure.

Next the violets, lending their quaint and subtle charm, began springing up in convenient and not so convenient abundance, livening large areas of the front lawn as well as brightening spots between the flagstone, where they were actually “planted.”

The faithful borage has surfaced on and off all winter, enduring and endearing except under the harshest days, meaning an occasional snow flurry, which would put off almost anything but the chard.

In a whoosh, in a heartbeat, overnight, like magic, the plum tree opened its lovely white blossoms and, in spite of the torrent of rain, wafted throughout the back garden, reminding creatures large and small that spring was ever so near.

Resonating with the call, the quince followed suit.

But, alas, dear readers, if I were to portray a perfect world for you, a world where the rivers are filling and all is in blossom, I would not be true. No. For among the myriad blossoms and the rushing waters and teeny droplets promising turning us back from the brink of draught, nay, because of the turning of the tide, comes this. Yes, it does.

Oh, woe is me.

But turn your eyes, turn your eyes, dear reader, towards beauty. Yes! Here!

Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Another! What little beastie can be doing this in my backyard? What little beastie, indeed?

Would it be he?

Mischievous as my boy Conner is, probably not.

But what’s this emerging from under the bushes?

I think we have our little beastie, don’t you? What a girl! Ruby, take a bath! Now!

No shame whatsoever. Just more fun for her. Now where were we? Aw, yes, I was about to take you to see the magnolias! Beauty in abundance!

Had enough? Good! I thought not. I really must show you the camellias, which are very pretty at the moment! Delicate white…

Cheerie red…

And perfect pink…

From the bottom of my heart I give thanks for the glorious rain, for the splendid, fragrant flowers and the magnificent beauty with which they graces our lives, and for all the beasties great and small.

Love and garden kisses,
Kathryn xoxo

Posted on March 2nd, 2009 by Kathryn
Filed under: Plants | 28 Comments »

Granted this insatiable quest for spring (echoed in antsy gardening blogs around the globe, I might add) is fueled undoubtedly by weeks of warm dry weather. Not a drop of rain. So of course I got my hopes up, shoving my guilt to the back of the room, knowing in my heart of hearts we desperately needed the rain as neighbors began predicting water rations and the inevitable parched lawns. But having arrived at one of heaven’s many doors last week in the heathers at Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, I continued my search and who’s to blame me? Little did I know that the “worst” Arctic-fed storms of the season were about to embark on their journey through Northern California and that I would be left in jaw-dropping awe this week as snow levels dropped to the lowest I’d ever seen them, leaving the local hills reminding one of, say, Colorado, rather than California. (That mars one pictures, doesn’t it?) Armed with optimism I nevertheless went about like a soldier in search of spring, so who’s to say what season I am in? Maybe my own. And this is not a bad metaphor for the times I feel obliged to say. Here’s what I found.

Aww, the worthy and loyal crocus. Dave says these crocuses were out front when he bought his house in the 50’s and they have reliably come up every single year with no fuss whatsoever. What a great investment and what a treasure, no? And no wonder I’d think spring so close with these blossoming in a long row just next door! In any case, they have my attention and I’m banking on spring by their presence. (What are you hanging on to at the moment?)

And, of course, there was so very much more. (One simply has to look, right?)

A lovely plum

One of my very very favorites, the acacia. (I seriously considered naming Antonia Acacia before she was born. I really did.)

This moss did not reinforce the notion of spring but it certainly caught my attention!


Good morning, pretty daffodil! Thank you for your beauty.

Having satisfied myself that spring was afoot in my own immediate world I ventured out to my dear friend Conny’s garden to see what was emerging there. Lucky me, Milli was on hand to greet me and keep me company. Hi, dear Milli!

I have loved her from the moment I met her and am so grateful to have her in my life.

Off we go.

This garden might be a bit further behind in what is opening, but the beauty abounds.

Coral bark maple, so aptly named and gorgeous in the rain!

Something coming up here! They look like tulips, don’t they? I’m sure they are!

Cute little rosehips. Good they are in Conny’s garden and not mine. I’d have drunk them all by now as tea. They are such a good source of Vitamin C!

Having thoroughly comforted myself that spring is reliably just around the corner I head off to a favorite cafe and snuggle up in a big chair and warm myself by the fire. Yes, life is well and good and happening. Deep gratitude there.

Love and garden blessings!
Kathryn xoxo

Posted on February 15th, 2009 by Kathryn
Filed under: People at Life | 37 Comments »