Beneath a pelmeted bower of rose garlands in
a French chateau, I could dream a Sunday morning away…
But here in Northern California, two days of sun are forecast…
and I must wrestle myself from imagining my rosy bed
and set about setting the garden straight …
My absolute favorite way to spend the day…
The espaliered apples and pears are beginning to bloom,
the cherries setting small buds along their branches.
Muscari runs in rampant drifts headlong into the
babytears and nepata. Self-seeded foxgloves
have made themselves at home artfully over the winter,
growing voluminous leafy skirts while it rained and rained.
This is what I wait for…from when the last plump
Bourbon rose is plucked, sometimes as late as December,
until the eternal rains finally start to abate. However briefly.
I have two days to step carefully into my damp garden,
stooping to pull and clear, everywhere looking
for signs of Spring…
1)The French Country House Christiane de Nicolay-Mazery, Photography Bernard Touillon
3) 19th century Cigar case cover Ruby Lane Antiques
4) Antique Bourbon rose from my garden Honorine de Brabant
