Last week in old
Montreal, I fell for a pair of painted wooden carvings from . To me they are destined to be serene “gardians”. My dear Mum & Dad – now both moved on to another realm – are nonetheless constant companions in the garden, and these two happy souls are their embodiment. Indonesia
It’s a glorious day out there to baptize them with. Almost mid-April, and time to get out on the fields. The finches, robins, chickadees are twittering away in glee; squirrels are scurrying around, trees are budding up nicely, the grass is greening before our eyes, the garlic is shooting up, and the greenhouses are fully planted with spring greens and starter trays.
The over-wintered spinach is large-leafed and succulent. In a week or so, it’s off to market once more. Dead wood is cleared away. The tractor with cultivator finally gets a run out on some of the fast-drying beds, releasing waftings of earthiness. The sloping fields will have to wait to drain and firm up some more.
The garden awakens from its long winter, and the air is filled with energy and anticipation. We sun-struck planters heed the call.