I'm not ready to round the corner and see this Magnolia stellata already showing white petals. It's still partially sheathed, shy to display full wantonness to the warm gaze of spring, but I can already smell the warm musky scent of the Cretaceous seeping forth, sensual siren to my senses. Another warm day and I'll see the yellow stamens and glistening pistils, the first mating of spring in full view. Pray with me that no hasty frost browns these creamy petals.
I'm not ready to see my "Pink Forsythia" (Abeliophyllum distichum 'Roseum') already in full bloom and display. This bush has been a minor part of my garden since 2004, long enough that my memory had made her into the natural "white forsythia" instead of the pink form. Ah, the fickle memory of age! It is moderately scented, but in odd fashion that I would liken to a sweet acetone with overtones of sweaty feet. I'm not ready nor desperate enough yet to present this questionable bouquet to Mrs. ProfessorRoush's more discerning nose.
Abeliophyllum distichium 'Roseum' |
I'm certainly not ready to see roses leafing out, including this particularly thorny specimen of 'Polareis' which seems to be betting that the frosts are over. Rugosas are tough plants, but I still wish they would be a little slower to stick their stems and leaves out into open air. Almost all the roses are showing green, willing victims to the guillotine of a late frost that will surely yet come. Patience, my children, patience is a virtue, and haste tempts a thorny termination.
I'm not ready, and neither is my garden. Go back to sleep, child, and wait for a warmer morning.