Springing Good-Naturedly

It's early garden days yet. Plenty of warmth before us, to enjoy outdoor living. Not yet even summer by the calendar, although we're enjoying humid, hot and wet weather, perfect for the garden which, by the way is looking absolutely fabulous. I know, I know, I say that every year. Every year I tell myself that the garden has never looked better. And then the year following I have good reason to say that yet again.

Whatever the year, whatever the time, it's a simple fact of simple appreciation: the garden has never looked better.

I'm utterly besotted with the garden, no point trying to deny it, although I've never denied it. Mind, I try to present a casual air about it all when someone comes along admiring the garden and congratulating me for its appearance. I demur, say it has little to do with my paltry and amateurish ministrations, and everything to do with serendipity. Just something mysterious
about the trees, the shrubs, the perennials themselves, their zest for life.

They are, in point of fact, show-offs, all of them. Egotistically imperious, that's their outlook on life. Throughout the cold winter months when the garden is in the deep-freeze, they plan their strategy for the seasons to come. Mindful of the mischievous, good-natured surprise they plan to spring on us as soon as Nature relents, calls back winter and introduces the agonizingly slow advance to spring. When the bulbs become activated, and the perennials begin to stir, and blossoms appear everywhere.

Utterly ravishing, never, ever, underwhelming.