Celebrations and Reversals

 

Well, we're halfway through this poetry-writing/poetry-reading month and I've written very little here of the normal kind of blog post, so I promise to try to remedy that this weekend. It's been good for me to take a break and do something different, but I've almost had to because of work pressure.

Meanwhile, spring is slowly oozing out of the earth, squeezing forth from the tight capsules of leaf-buds and dormant bulbs and rhizomes. I've gone twice to the jardin botanique, once last Saturday when I desperately needed a day off in the sun, and was also mourning the first spring in my life when I haven't had a garden or woods of my own to watch as it awakens. I went again on Wednesday afternoon with my husband and a close friend, with whom I wanted to share some of what I'd seen.

There's still not much in bloom outdoors. I went to the rockery/alpine garden thinking maybe the warmth on the rocks might have pushed things ahead, and that turned out to be right. A special find were some patches of fuzzy hellbores, or "Lenten roses," of which one is below -- there were also the varieties in cream and maroon -- and banks of daffodils and Siberian squill (at the top of the page).

 

The highlight for me, though, was the "Native American woodland," where I was totally alone in an open forest that felt so familiar it made me decide I was pretty close to native too. There I found squirrel corn, Dutchman's breeches, the spotted leaves of trout lilies, blue cohosh, early violets, trillium, and these hepaticas (yes, Dave, even all the way up here) :

But then, the greenhouses! The greenhouses were magnificent. I had gone especially to see the late spring special exhibition of "papillons en liberte" - "butterflies go free" - and it was pretty wonderful for color-starved northerners like myself. More on that later.

Yesterday I went for a long walk in Park Lafontaine, where the forsythia is blooming like crazy, and the maples trees are covered with flowers, though most people probably don't notice. It was a beautiful warm day; today is cold, rainy and raw -- and that's how it goes. Personally,  I'm willing to endure the cold days for a spring that lasts longer, and unlike some Montrealers, I've put my winter coats away.

April showers in chartreuse -

maples fling their miniature bouquets

to all the brides of spring 

(napowrimo #16)

Comments

[Kim]

Quite lovely, Beth. Looking forward to reading about the butterflies.

[zuleme]

That looks like where they have the koi. We really enjoyed walking through there on our last visit to Montreal. The Bio Dome was somewhat strange though. Felt sorry for the penguins.

[Beth]

Thanks, Kim! Butterflies coming up.

Hi Zuleme, actually this is the alpine garden and the Japanese garden, with the koi (not out yet, I wonder where they keep them?), is over the (manmade) hill from here to the east, past "China." Strange, these constructed environments! I agree with you about the Biodome and the penguins - in some ways it's just an indoor zoo. Closed right now, though, because of a city labor dispute.

[Marja-Leena]

What a lovely place, Beth. Spring seems to me the most miraculous in colder climates, especially in the speed in which it sometimes bursts forth, and too quickly turns into summer. After living in cold climates for the first quarter century of my life (oh, that makes me sound OLD already!) I had a shock the first winter here in Vancouver. It was for me another miracle to observe a long slow spring beginning with small signs already in January, building up to the full majesty of April. Spring didn't come until mid-May on the prairies!