Spring in the Garden

Spring in Minnesota is a tenuous and welcome occurrence. Every year, we forget that winter lasts longer than we remembered, and we are shocked by April freezes and snow in May. We think that it was different last year, until the weather guy on public radio tells us differently. Every year, this was the longest winter. Every year, Spring is slower to come.

What I do remember from last year is that it was 17 degrees in April, after the pasque flowers had started blooming, after an eighty degree day, after we had so naively nestled into Spring. Everything died back. The apple tree didn't do much as far as bearing fruit in fall. The pasque flowers gave up. Everything had to start over.


This year, though it did snow in May, and it was in the forties most of the mornings this week, Spring has been steady and confident in its arrival. And as I relax into it and face a different kind of growing and planting season, I appreciate it even more than usual.
Last year, I spent a lot of money on native plants, and I tore out a lot of non-natives, ferns, irises, and took out any tulip bulbs I could find. This Spring, I was wondering what would make it, and what would not. Of course, I not-so-smartly got rid of my list of purchased plants, but--smartly--I made some maps of what I put in. This is what the front slope looked like last year, after planting:

I don't think that the harebells, the blue-eyed grass, and the bearberry made it. At least one of the kittentails made it, and the rest of it looks pretty good.

Near the front door looked like this:
The butterfly weed has not made an appearance yet, but I am still hopeful. I love this stuff; it has orange flowers.

The side of the house by the driveway is a good one. I jammed too much stuff in there, I know, but I knew that not everything would survive, and I pretty much garden like a crazy person:

Can you see that?
I didn't think so. Suffice to say that it's a zoo in there this year. I don't think the swamp milkweed survived the Aphid Infestation of 2007, I am not sure about the joe pye weed, the prairie clover, the ironweed, or the butterfly weed; but there will be plenty of flowering plants in there, though I will have to keep an eye out for the powdery mildew, which was a problem last year. Those plants are in there really close together.

The squirrels decimated my shrubs, chewing off most of the hazelnut bush that I have had for five years, breaking branches on the highbush cranberry that went in at the same time, and reducing two other new shrubs whose names I cannot remember to practically nothing. It's very frustrating, and there seems to be nothing I can do about it.

This year, due to pregnancy and uncertainty about construction, I wait and watch. I will keep up with weeding and watering, but I am only putting in a few seeds and herbs. I don't have to worry about vegetables because the folks at Driftless Organics will be taking care of that. The List of Goodness we will be getting from them is almost overwhelming.

The thing I like best about our garden is the watching and waiting. Walking around it, looking at what is new.
Seeing that this year has been a very good year for violets.
And that the strawberries seem to be protected from the bunnies, so far...
A couple of tulips survived the purge, one red one and this pink one that never bloomed before:
Max loves Spring and the Opening of the Windows, and this year, he is not marking the house like he did last year...
The lilacs have started to bloom, and their fragrance lingers around the front door, welcoming us when we come home, and sending us off when we leave...
The ferns and the bluebells are coming along, though the bluebells are early and transient...
And Fritz believes himself to be an outside cat now, and expects to come outside with us when we sip coffee and tea on the back stoop... Next year, we can hang out on the upstairs deck or the back porch...