O Spring!


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So much is happening. Many of the daffodils are blooming and the tulips are getting themselves ready. The temps have been up and down and so I'm not sure how long it will be before the cherry blossoms pop out.

Some years lots of things bloom all at once and others are much more in stages. The all winter long snow pack actually insulated some of the beds and so some bulbs are ahead of schedule.

Several wonderful people planted my Douglas Fir Christmas tree yesterday. It is already beginning to put out new light green buds. My hope is that it will act as a color foil for the huge blue spruce that is already towering at the edge of the front of the church.

Alan planted some new pansies among those survivors from last fall.

I hope to put in cabbages and sow mixed greens seeds this week as well as put in some new blueberry and strawberry plants in the victory garden. I put in more asparagus roots, horseradish, a new gooseberry and several rhubarb roots and some blackberry and raspberry plants.

The chicory survived and turned deep red and sweet under the straw mulch and snow as did the endive. I am using some of it in the last of the Wednesday lenten soup this week. Alan has started the Roma tomato seedlings in the windows at home along with some herb seeds.

I just bought a new Province lavender to fill in a gap in the front and some sage plants for the back. The mint is coming up great guns in the victory garden and the strawberry pyramids are greening up and there are swelling buds everywhere. The figs are about to bud after being unwrapped and the magnolias are swelling toward color along with the lilacs and the cherries.

Life can be grand!

Father Farmer

To Spring
by William Blake

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Through the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!

The hills tell one another, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'd
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth
And let thy holy feet visit our clime!

Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,
Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.



04/14/2011 11:05

Blake! On Poem In Your Pocket Day! Perfect.


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