Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Heaven scent...



The blackbird is singing again this morning in the magnolia tree, and suddenly the garden is filled with buds and the smell of growing things. I love these early, fragile days of spring...

15 comments:

kairu said...

Lovely! The sky is blue here, too, the trees faintly flushed with the colors of budding flowers and leaves...still cold, but bright and clear. Time to reread the passages in The Secret Garden about how springtime brings sleeping plants alive against the dark earth and bare branches, bringing warmth to cold stone...

normalityandme said...

saw my first snow drops today... spring is doing it's best x

Justine Picardie said...

Thank you for reminding me of The Secret Garden -- it's years since I read it, but I remember loving it as a child.
And so happy to hear that the snow drops are appearing; none in my garden, but glad to know that they're coming up elsewhere.

Lazywell said...

I've recently developed a taste for that deceptively simple poetry form, Haiku.

Here are a few Spring related ones by the great master, Bashō:

Spring night,
cherry-
blossom dawn.

Spring’s exodus –
birds shriek,
fish eyes blink tears.

Spring rain –
under trees
a crystal stream.

Spring air –
woven moon
and plum scent.

And a rather charming one by Onitsura:

the dawn of day –
on the tip of the barley leaf
the frost of spring

Karen, Surrey said...

Bud envy here Justine. We planted a magnolia last year and the buds were quite big and it flowered. This year the buds are virtually non existent at the moment. However we are in it for the long term!

mandy said...

Oh I can't wait, and then the countdown to summer, yippee! Dreaming of those light and lazy evenings in the garden, bliss.

Justine Picardie said...

The magnolia in my garden is very well-established -- I'm guessing it was planted not long after the house was built. But I hope I haven't jinxed the budding -- it's suddenly getting cold again tonight. Still, have been trying to think positive thoughts, encouraged by the haikus; eg it's not horrible grim February rain outside, but 'a crystal stream'.

enid said...

What is it about humans that we are constantly wishing for different weather ? It is so hot here that we long for cool breezes and some rain for the gardens. I remember a silly childhood rhyme
Spring has sprung the grass has riz
I wonder where my tractor iz ?

Justine Picardie said...

Enid, I was quoting that rhyme just the other day, except the one I was taught goes like this:
Spring has sprung, the grass has riz,
I wonder where the boirdies is?
The boirdies on the wing.
But that's absoird,
I always hoird the wing was on the boird.

It doesn't really work in print; has to be said in a broad Brooklyn accent.

enid said...

Mine is said in an Afrikaans accent
the next lines are
is it here or is it daar ( meaning there )
I wonder where the bloody hell it are

Justine Picardie said...

Thank you! An excellent alternative to Valentine's missives!

Knitting Out Loud said...

And I love reading about your spring!
And the haiku ("woven moon"!) and the wonderful silly rhyme with different endings.

We have 3 feet of snow, but it is beautiful and the spring will be sweeter for it.

Joy said...

Was going to leave a comment about Coco Chanel, but noticed the comments about 'The Secret Garden', an all time favorite of mine that I would re-read every spring to be reminded that warmer weather WILL arrive! I arrived here via Tales From a Cottage Garden. I am enjoying your blog--very serene.

jaywalker said...

The mention of the change of seasons reminded me to ask if anyone else has seen Mike Leigh's "Another Year"? His films just get better. My OH and I talked about it for half an hour afterwards - a sure sign of a good movie. The scenes of the older couple in their allotment brought home memories of my Yorkshire grandfather. I've always loved his movies but this was especially brilliant.

Justine Picardie said...

I'm glad this blog seems serene, though it is liable to lapse into gloom or anxiety every so often (like me). Haven't seen the new Mike Leigh film, but very much want to. And I do so wish I was reading The Secret Garden at this moment, instead of doing my accounts, an occupation which drives me to despair.