It is now almost summer, the fallen leaves and last year’s flowers have long since been cleaned up from most gardens. But here, a grand lonely house stands guard over last year’s refuse, this spring’s now past forget me not’s, and perhaps hidden marvelous treasures of many colors.The early afternoon shadows creep from the steadfast barn and neighboring oak trees. Loads of debris has been carted away, but still more remains; it is all around the edges, under the growing greenery, and still obscuring the summer potential marvels. The clearing of the thick debris has revealed pale stems and leaves deprived of sunlight. Weak specimens of Summer’s potential glory.Sunlight dapples through, picking up a flash of brilliant pink, a spark of soft silver, a soft ting of gentle blue. Last year’s dead swordlike stalks crisscross the green recruits, that are searching for the light. The new fledglings reach to catch the passerby’s eye, but still blend in like wallflowers lost in the crowd.A treasure! With its wooly soft leaves, the lambs ear is revealed. Still holding tightly to the closed buds of the purple blossoms for the summer, the stems stand tall, reaching above the iris stalks. The velvety leaves pour out of the garden and erase the clear cut line between garden and pavement.And, not to be forgotten! One mouse eared sentinel is still fully blooming in this round of plantings. Caught between the leaves and the treasures, the forget me not holds strong to Spring and the delicate, but hardy nature of Maine garden plants. The sticky seeds of the many plants gone past have been redistributed throughout the garden, wondrous treasures for the next round!There in the brown leaves, the white stars are shining! The Garden star of Bethlehem has lost most of its yellowed leaves to the treasure hunt. But the flowers, on long delicate stems survived to peep and peer through the few remaining leaves at the back of the garden. A treasure not often seen in this garden, as this little marvel often is over looked as crocus leaves gone by. But, given extra time this year, perhaps it will spread more!And finally the fuschia flowers are fully found. Hiding in several spots was a wonderful gem of a weigela. With some trimming here and there it has been returned to its place of beauty and glory around which the daffodils and forget me not’s will dance, as well as the lambs ear and day lilies, and finally the echinacea and goldenrod.The garden is restored, for now. The daffodil leaves are all braded, springs spent blossoms have been removed, and the summer’s buds stand ready for the warmth of July to open and revel in the marvelous treasures of summer color.
It is coming! What is coming? It is coming! What is coming?
You must be patient and then you will see. You must let go, and let it be. You must go with the flow. Let the seasons take their course. Be one with the universe. Stop fighting and striving and battling and it will come to you.
Deep in the earth, the ground is stirring. The sun shine is gaining strength. The birds are singing longer and louder. The snow is slowly receding. The chickens can feel it and venture further from their house, sometimes getting stuck in a patch of green, surrounded by cold white expanses of snow. Then they must venture slowly and carefully over the frozen tundra to return to the softer earth. Or they suddenly take to flight, barely three feet off the ground as they leap from the hillside, trying to reach a thawed tract.
The driveway is frozen, mud. The car leaves strangely morphed three dimensional impressions, resembling long dinosaur tracks, frozen in time. It is soft some afternoons as we slide in, but always thin, glassy, crackle in the morning as the car tires crunch through the glass-ice. The return of life, small but hardy, reminds us that warmer days are coming. The sun will shine again and the flowers will return, bringing butterflies and bees and beach days. New hope is flickering at the edges of the path.