A softness to peony season

Spring seems to have been our shortest season this year. As soon as the snow went out of the landscape, green appeared. And yet now we’re already on the other side of spring into summer. We’ve had days of record-setting heat and humidity in the past week – a true reminder that June weather can bring just about anything.

The peonies in my garden burst into a riotous bloom a few weeks ago. There were shades of pink, red, magenta, maroon, white, and even a lovely coral. This is the one time of year I wish for no rain. May and June rains tend to be downpours, with raindrops falling hard through the sky and pelting any flower petals. This year we missed some of the heaviest rain, and the peony blossoms remained and came into full bloom.

I’m lucky to have some plants that are from my mother and father’s yard in Kansas. They’ve adjusted to our Minnesota weather, and I especially enjoy seeing those particular peonies come into bloom. My parents referred to peonies as “memorial flowers.” In Kansas they hoped the peonies would bloom right before Memorial Day so they could pick arm loads of them to place on the grave sites of family and relatives. I’ve since learned that tradition came after the Civil War when peonies were placed on the graves of fallen soldiers on what was then called Decoration Day. It was (and is still) a small gesture, but the remembrance and commitment is so much larger.

Awash in spring color

There is a lovely palette of colors in our landscape now. The rains and the sunshine have encouraged all the plants and flowers to burst into bloom and fullness. And with light winds the colors seem to dance before our eyes.

My garden is filled with this lovely orange and yellow columbine. The first plant was a transplant from my mother-in-law’s garden near their lake house. The columbine have multiplied and spread, and now stand tall and full in my garden. Behind is a stand of large lupines. These too were a gift from a dear friend who shared the lupine seeds. It took a couple of years for the plants to produce their lovely blue and purple blooms, but quickly they have spread and provide a lovely backdrop to the columbine.

A few days ago I awoke to an early, cool morning with the promise of a warm day ahead. Gradually the sun cleared the house and it’s brightness flooded the gardens. The birds chirped, a soft wind started to rustle, and I enjoyed a magical few hours surrounded by color and song in the garden.

Spring green

And with the flip of a switch we’ve moved into spring, with it’s lovely shades of bright green. We’ve had heat and sun, cool and rain – everything needed to promote the trees to leaf out, the grass to grow, and the flowers to push up through the ground. It’s a time filled with birdsong, from before dawn to after dusk. The warblers are moving through, the Baltimore orioles have stopped at the oranges we’ve offered, the robins are building nests, the whippoorwills are singing at night, and we’ve even seen some fluffy goslings.

Before long the calendar pages will change, the heat and humidity of the long summer days will arrive, and just as quickly the days will once again start getting shorter. But I’m way ahead of myself now, and I try to remind myself to enjoy this spring – the shortest season of the year.

Signs of spring

Spring has arrived in the north, and we are marveling in it’s colors and textures. It is all a great awakening from the cold and quiet of winter. Spring rains have brought green to our grasses, and caused the flowers to open and burst into bloom. The daffodils, magnolias, and crocus are all basking in the warm sunshine. The rains have brought gentle showers and also thunderstorms that roll through quickly and seem to clear in an instant. If we’re fast enough and the conditions are right, they also grace us with wondrous rainbows of color – sometimes even complete double rainbows!

Ripples

Sometimes a photograph is a representation of the scene in front of us. And sometimes it’s something more. In this image I see a lovely sense of movement away from winter and the snow that is covering the bank and shoreline. The hints of a greening spring are evident and the trees’ reflection has a fluid and abstract look in the open water. There’s a blue sky overhead, dappled with abstract white clouds that shines down into the surface of the water. It’s all a movement and progression from one season to the next.