Spring Garden

It's been a few months since I went wild with the garden shears 

and cleaned out my bedraggled winter flower beds. 

{the front yard flower beds and boxwood hedge}

You may remember the twiggy minimalism that survived. 

 

 {iceberg rose standard}

It's so helpful to remember (even in perpetually sunny-skied Southern California) 

that plants--trees--gardens--cycle through seasons. 

{pink climbing rose and iceberg rose bush}

This awareness keeps me from frustration in the late summer 

when my roses seem wasted and my hydrangea are limp. 

{hydrangea before the first flowering}

 

 It gives me hope in the winter when I hack away the dead, diseased, 

and leggy leavings of a prolific growing season.

{sweet pea bush, snow-in-summer, compact bush germander, bouganvilla, lantana}

And it reminds me that the dewy newness of the first bloom 

is fleeting and should be appreciated now. 

 

There's something freeing and familiar about regular change. 

 {rose, astilbe, boxwood, snow-in-summer}

It encourages second chances and new variations on old themes. 

Enough reverie . . . back to the spring garden. 

{iceberg rose, blue potato bush, eugenia}

Those poor pinched twigs have unfurled their bright green leaves and sent forth their tiny buds 

 which have matured (always so slowly at first) and bloomed. 

 {ivy topiaries and foxglove}

So fresh and lovely is the spring garden.