I can't imagine a more beautiful morning.
I was outside shortly after 7 to sit with a steaming mug of coffee, sipped while I listened to the songs of a particularly gifted and exuberant mockingbird.
This bird had added the call of the whip-poor-will to its repetoire.
This puzzles me since most birds go to roost [and presumably to sleep] at sundown and the whip-poor-will doesn't begin its repetative call until dark.
J.'s take on this is that while the mockingbird may have "gone to bed", its ears and memory are still functioning.
With the coffee finished, I found the camera, poked my feet into wellies and made a tour of the gardens.
The mints planted near the east-facing wall of the garage were silvery with dew and very fragrant.
I have several varieties of nepeta.
The Walkers Low is nearly done blooming.
This is nepeta sibirica, very stately.
Yarrow [achillia] glows in morning sunshine.
The first of these to open--and my mind is a blank regarding the name.
[This seems to happen when I try to identify plants for a late evening blog post!]
Rosa "Wise Portia."
Nigella [Love-in-a-mist]. I planted seed last spring and none germinated.
This single plant, almost lost in a mound of mint and dianthus, is a surprise.
These dianthus are from a packet of mixed seed planted last spring.
I love the spicey scent of "clove pinks."
Penstemon, Huskers' Red.
Another clump of clove pinks.
My only surviving foxglove.
The first of the Oriental lilies in bud.
The blackberries brambles are loaded with blooms and green berries.
I hope the weather will be kind to them--we lost some of our nearly ripe strawberries to
a week of cold, wet weather.
I have poppies in all stages of growth, as the seed sown in Februrary has germinated irratically.
Hopefully some from each packet is represented.
I am looking forward to the blooms and the seed pods to lavish poppies everywhere for another spring.
Robert Browning (1812-1889)
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn:
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!