One of the first wildflowers of spring are the Trilliums. They first appear in early May and stay for about a month. There are two colours of Trilliums, red and white, and for some reason they don’t seem to grow together. I don’t know why that is, perhaps it has to do with the nutrients in the soil. At any rate, our woods are dominated by red Trilliums.
However, these flowers coming to the end of their season. Not to worry though, there is always something else happening and now these are blooming in the woods:
I love these flowers. They are called Aquilegia canadensis or wild columbine. They seem to prefer rocky areas rather than wet areas and it is easy to come across large clumps of them. Some have found their way to my cultivated gardens and since they look good and require very little care they are quite welcome to stay.
Some things are worth taking the trouble to make. One of those things is bread, so yesterday I did just that. At the risk of upsetting purists, I used a breadmaker to mix and knead the dough. For me it makes the difference between making bread and not. I did shape the dough, put it in the oven and took it out when it was done so I was somewhat involved in the process. The end result was this:
A lovely egg bread. Inside was a surprise:
A swirl of cheddar cheese. This loaf of bread, along with some turkey vegetable soup, made a pretty tasty dinner and was well worth the little trouble it took to make.
The Lilac Poem
Before the lilacs are over and they are only
shrunken stalks at the ends of drooping branches,
I want to write a poem about them and their beauty
brief and star-shining as a young girl’s promise.
Because there is so much made of strength and wealth and power,
because the little things are lost in this world,
I write this poem about lilacs knowing that both
are this day’s only: tomorrow they will lie forgotten.
Raymond Souster
Summer is short around here. Not as short as in other places I know, but short enough to make me impatient for it to begin. So when the weather doesn’t co-operate, and time is passing, I can get frustrated. Last weekend was the long weekend during which we celebrate Victoria Day. This celebration traditionally takes the form of planting the garden. Well, when you reach a certain age that is the form it takes. Younger people recognize it by drinking ridiculous amounts of beer which has earned the weekend it’s other name: ‘The May two-four weekend’. Anyway, I’m past that, not that I was ever there. I like to plant the garden. We did dutifully plant some seeds and even some very vulnerable looking seedlings thinking that if a frost warning was declared we could cover them to protect them. It was declared, we covered them and they were protected. The weather continues to be variable. Yesterday was cool, windy and rainy. Then, late in the afternoon, this:
Hail. Those small, white pellets looked enough like snow to make me feel very nervous but, fortunately, it was only hail. Bad enough. I was quite worried about the seedlings, which can’t exactly run for cover like I did, but they seemed to have survived the ordeal.
These beautiful, delicate wild violets cover the forest floor. I like the way the green leaves and purple flowers look against the gray rocks.
