The woodland violets are thriving everywhere. This is their year.
Barren strawberries are as steadfast and lovely as always.
Sweet fragrant narcissus, the last bloom standing.
Lily of the Valley - takes me back to my childhood home.
I sat among them and pulled weeds and the scent was intoxicating.
Lilacs take me back to my childhood home too, and their scent triggers countless buried memories.
My four crabapple trees fill the yard with a sweet scent that blows on the breeze. It is everywhere, abundant.
I sat under them and watched the bees do their work. Few honeybees, but lots of big bumble bees.
I watched them dance in pairs, likely communicating something in that adamant buzz, then fly off in separate directions. I'm always on the lookout for their hive, but haven't found one in this yard yet.
I went out morning and evening and just sat under the crabapples, breathing it in.
I can't begin to find words to describe how happy they make me. I'll have to read some Mary Oliver or grab my old poetry book to see who's already said it better.
The pink crab is a few days behind, not as fragrant, but lovely to look at.
I was surprised to find this one little Forget Me Not, defiantly growing between the bricks on the patio.
It is the sole survivor from my garden, which, like life, is always full of surprises.
Oh and the birds are crazy with the singing.
I don't know my bird songs, or my birds very well, but the busy one sounds like a mockingbird to me. We also have robins, cardinals,doves and bluebirds, a cooper's hawk, maybe a kestril, and thrush or thrasher, a great grey owl and who knows what all nesting about. It is a glory.
You can sit a listen a bit if you want to. If you know your birds, please tell me who you hear.