Early April by Cardinale

Jolly little Pansies to brighten up Easter

Wild Mustard

When things felt out of order, my father always used to say, ‘Go outside. Smell the roses, come back in, and clean out your closet.’ Sound advice, which has proven to be effective often in my life, and this entire year has surely been an out-of-order one, for all! But today is as fine an April day as can be. The sky is a keen blue, the air is fresh, and the sun is heavily encouraging the temperatures to finally and firmly commit to Spring. There are no rose blossoms yet to smell, but around the sum total of the one rose-bush we have (appropriately planted in my fathers name), the garden beds lie waiting to be cleared of their protective Winter leaf-covering. I decide that this will be the best ‘closet’ to clear out today. And so I begin.

This process of uncovering the garden soil is like an unveiling. That ‘curtains up’ moment, in nature’s theatre. Watching the insects scatter in haste (pardon, all you little spiders and beetles!), while yanking out the sprouting burdock before it has a chance to establish its indomitable self. Here and there I uncover a sleepy salamander, and discover, while carrying it to a less disturbed place, that the wild mustard is ready to pick for pesto. So it goes, this clearing and discovering, a process that never ceases to calm and quietly amaze…all the while, planning which vegetables to plant in what beds this year. I rake on.

Lo and behold! Is that the gardening glove that went missing last year, clinging desperately to a tine of the rake!? So it is, and looking somewhat bedraggled, at that.

Well, it was a long Winter - and aren’t we all feeling a bit that way? The scarecrow looks at me sideways from where he lurches heavily to the right on his post, and helplessly agrees.

Strawberry Plants

Snap-Peas Sprouting

Daffodils

The trees may have not leafed out yet, but the graceful branches of the Weeping Willow are shimmering green. The peas I popped into the soil during a brief thaw in early March have come up, the Day Lilies are growing with inherent vigor. Despite the long, cold, Winter the strawberry plants look robust and undefeated, and the usual slim handful of daffodil clusters (which never seem to propagate), are perky and fresh.

The chives, of course, are prolific, and will do what they do no matter what. I secretly bow down to the lowly Chive every April for offering such hearty reassurance to someone such as myself, the more determined as opposed to naturally gifted, gardener.


Spring may not come early in the northwestern parts of New England, but when it arrives, it does so with fervor. We are almost there! And then it will seem there are never enough hours in the day to keep up! So it’s time to put away the pen and pick up the rake again. I’ll write about the chickens next time. For now, here’s a little glimpse of two of the new little ones, looking a bit perplexed on their first day out.