For lack of punctuation, we have a nice, ambiguous title for this post.
In contrast to last year’s spring, which came on strong with a March heat wave and an April drought, this year’s spring is cool and “backwards”. We’ve had a couple of glorious jacket-free days, but just a couple. A loopy jet stream and storms, particularly Atlantic storms, have kept us mostly cool. Today’s 6:30AM temperature was 42F.
Since our spring is so far a slow-motion season, we’ve had lots of time to watch buds slowly expand.
Purplish hosta tips test the chilly air.
One more good day, and these primroses will pop open.
This is one of my father’s beloved primroses. After he died, I transplanted them to a little garden area near our front door.
Blueberry flower buds are swelling, getting bigger by the week.
Each year, one of the first “crops” from the blueberry bushes is bees. Big, fat bumblebees will be hanging from the blossom clusters, tonguing out nectar. The pollen will be first food for some baby bumblebee brood.
Individual budlets of currant flowers peek out.
In another few weeks, these buds will lower their freight of flowers on a pendulous stalk. To make not a string of currants, but a “strig” of them. I wrote about “strigs” once, go here https://thetompostpile.wordpress.com/2012/03/22/strig-along-with-me/
to read about them. If I remember to get a good strig picture later on, I’ll add it to these posts.
The first of the “orange-cups” have started opening.
When grandson “T” saw this flower in the front garden, he immediately picked it. The bloom is now in a red glass bud vase on the dining room table.
A collard plant, which spent the winter in the greenhouse, has decided that it’s bloom time.
What can a “Nor’ Englander” like me say about collards? They are usually considered a southern vegetable. These greenhouse collards, what we ate of them, weren’t bad. We slow-cooked them with leek slices. Most folks love ’em with bacon, but we didn’t have any bacon in the house.
We’ll close with a look out the kitchen window.
Bradford pear branchlets, in the red vase, are being forced open. Another day or two and the window will be full of lacy whiteness. You can just make out Ho Tai, our friend who brings prosperity and happiness, nestled in the junipers on to of the rock retaining wall outside.
That’s not a flying saucer out there, it’s the hummingbird feeder. We see from the annual hummingbird migration map that the rubythroats have made it to Connecticut, Rhode Island, and at least one location in central Massachusetts. Those little birds are hungry when they arrive, so we’ve put the feeders out now, to welcome them back for another summer.
Want to keep track of this year’s Rubythroat Hummingbird migration?