A late start to the garden season

There was a day in February when I thought that spring was going to arrive. I remember that day so clearly, it was near the end of that month. The buds were beginning to pop, the earth was stirring with life and the sun warmed my back. As days progressed through March and April and May spring was placed on hold.
If it were not for the arrival of songbirds and bumblebees evidence of this joyous new season would have escaped me.

Today is a new month, the strawberries should have blossomed. Those low growing plants with green round leaves should be with a bounty of fruit. Sweet peas should be climbing the old post and rail fence, punctuating the breeze with a heady, sweet scent. Tomatoes, waiting to be planted in soft loam soil, still seek shelter under winter cold frames.

Spring is late this year and so are the trappings of a beautiful June garden.

Transitions

Days like today are are hard to describe, we are caught somewhere between the closing of Winter with all his fury and Spring's grand entrance onto natures stage, she is  beautiful and glorious.
Shadows cast by barren fruit trees still fall long on dormant lawns, but in those shadows are the rumblings of crocus and day lilies.  Tiny green buds are popping from rich, loamy soil.  Today heather blooms shades of rose, cream and dusky mauve. I  see too, the stirrings of oriental poppies, newborn and struggling to warm themselves under a crisp sunshine.

Each tender bud drinks the sunlight, with a sense of knowing. Knowing that as soon as the sky changes it's color from blue to peach and lavender a frosty chill will set upon them. Beautiful Spring briefly tempts the little buds from the ground and from tree limbs, with drops golden sunlight. Winter returns at sundown to remind them that he is still sovereign for a few more days.

The seasons are dancing together now, back and forth.  Spring, she dares to take the lead,  Winter still spins flamboyantly, unwilling to give up his place on this grand arena of change.