There's so much more to these days than just the daffodils, glorious as they are. But, I stayed up late to post last night, got up early to plant and weed this morning and so I am now without oomph.
Much of this post will be, therefore, about daffodils.
With the occasional shot of Ed thrown in. Like at breakfast.
Oh! In this next photo of the entrance to the farmhouse -- you're not noticing the daffodils either. I've reconceptualized the perennial borders here. The plantings have to be responsive to their environment: very little sunlight filters in once the trees have full leaf cover. In anticipation of the spring overhaul, I did not plant many daffodils here last fall.
This border -- not finished yet! -- was perhaps the hardest of them all for me this spring. Fabric, overgrown with weeds had to be dug up and removed, without disturbing the roots of the few flowers I would leave behind. Successful? Well, if you allow yourself to let go of the occasional casualty, then yes. Next year I'll let you know if the new plantings were suitable for the fickle lighting here.
In other spots at the farmette, the daffodils -- singles, doubles, white, orange, cream -- they rule in May.
So magnificent. And unpredictable, too. Here are some random stalks that tipped over in the bad weather of ... whenever it was that we last had bad weather. I cut them down and put them in my little vase.
Tomorrow, my digging, pruning, transplanting -- all pause as a cold front moves through. That's okay. I can admire spring from inside. I can catch up with written work, I can hatch plans for the next stage of this planting mania. In the meantime, take in the daffodils and remind yourself how not that long ago, there was no sign of spring, of blooms, of all the beautiful pale yellow, orange, white that we see today.
It's a remarkable world out there. Even as now, it seems that it's all about the daffodils.
