Therese Bugnet open on this Easter Sunday morning.
The red stems are an added beauty of Therese Bugnet.
The spice pinks are perfuming the entire dooryard.
[Dooryard is apparently a term recognized only in New England, referring to the more civilized area around the house as opposed to the rougher pastures or fields. I wonder if the British use of "garden" to refer to the outside area around a house may be an equivalent.]
Is this 'squill?' It grows here and there in the grass from tiny bulbs.
I moved some last spring into the edge of the flower strip.
This group flowered since D. mowed the grass last Sunday.
The mauve clematis has bloomed.
Pinks and blue salvia.
A large bee enjoying the salvia.
An afternoon rain [again!] pummeled the roses.
A mayfly poised on a peony bud.
A lovely butterscotch iris unfolds.
Pink pleated leaves on the old grapevine.
The herb garden which Delila helped me to create.
Wire surround to protect the bluebird house from the curiosity of Willis.
The rather nostalgic essay which I wrote today to share with friends and family as an Easter greeting can be found here at CM.
It contains thoughts from a Christian perspective mixed with memories of springtime rituals.