On my walks through the garden I speak to every plant, every little bud that pushes forward with such excruciating effort and ever flower that greets me on my way. At the moment every day there are newcomers among them. Tulips, daphodils, and Eurythimums have made a bold reappearance. Others are more tentative. Of the shrubs, all have done very well since last year, only my poor purple Hebe has suffered in the cold and so I will have to come up with a eulogy this weekend when I will dig up the droopy remains. The roses, all thirteen of them, are doing well. Red petals are developing which I will shower with a mild tonic on Saturday. After choosing each and every one of them and finding the right spot for it I feel a personal attachment and any misfortune, like that of my poor Hebe, sours my otherwise blissful stroll. But every new day brings new surprises.
Spring is a real treat...
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