Forsythia Time!

 

Rainy, With a Chance of Forsythia

                                                                       

                                                                                       

                                                                                    

                                                                                     

Forsythia Brightens Our World

 

Burning Bright

On rainy gray days, forsythia seems to shine the strongest, lighting up all the dark corners.

Folks around here call it Yellow Bells and you can see it in almost every yard.

You can cut the budding branches and bring them inside where they will pop into bloom and light up the house.

Forsythia roots easily -- in water or in soil. Over the years I've started many pots of forsythia and scattered the resulting bushes all over the farm.

Forsythia is enterprising and roots itself, flinging out branched that lie on the soil and take root, stealthily advancing year by year. We have a forsythia wilderness at the foot of our front yard.

 And, unlike my azaleas and rhododendrons, the deer don't seem interested in it. 

Hurrah for forsythia!

Like a Good Deed in a Naughty World

We've had a series of chilly gray days but the forsythia shines out like a good deed in a naughty world -- made an even brighter yellow by the dull backgrounds.

When we first built our house, my sister-in-law ay gave us a forsythia bush which we planted in the front yard and I planted three more -- little more than sticks, along our driveway near the house.

All of them have thriven and from them, I have rooted many more and spread the golden wealth around -- by the Lutyens bench . . .  on the slope by the back gate. . . 

 Across the road near the little log tool shed . . . along the edge of the front yard . . .

 But wait! There're more -- rooted last year (or maybe the year before) ready to righten yet another corner of the farm.  

It's like Rumpelstiltskin  spinning gold from straw,  You poke some sticks in dirt, keep them watered,  wait a year, and voila -- free gold!

Forsythia - re-post

Shawled in morning fog,
The distant mountain sleeps -- no
Shout disturbs its peace.

The shoots of the forsythia, thick with yellow flowers, are like fireworks exploding, spiralling outwards in joyous abandon.

It seems to me that the sight of all that golden glory should rightfully be accompanied by glad shouts -- something like the verse from Job --"The morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy."

In Search of Color

After a series of gray days, yesterday morning I took my camera and went looking for color. Daffodils are beginning to open everywhere and the lovely coral branches of the Sango Kaku Japanese maple are a welcome sight -- the tree was hit by a freeze a few years ago and had to be severely pruned but it's coming back!

I want to paint the inside of my kitchen cabinets this delicious shade of red, just for the thrilling jolt of color I'd get whenever I opened a door to take down the jar of Herbes de Provence or to put away the dishes. I've been meaning to do this for ages -- maybe this will be the year.

Forsythia is at its peak -- such an obliging plant. This below is one I rooted from pruned branches a few years back. (Note to self -- root lots more! Spread forsythia up and down the mountain to brighten future Springs!)

As I was returning to the house to finish wrangling with our tax information, I saw that the lilac by the steps is covered with buds. I've had this shrub for years -- it was a gift from a friend's yard -- and it's always bloomed very sparingly. But now -- well, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we don't have a freeze or anything else to destroy what seems to be a very promising crop of lilac blooms.

I don't want to count my buds before they open . . . but can you imagine how good it would smell?

Like a Good Deed . . .

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

from "The Merchant of Venice"





Springtime's yellows shine strongest on rainy gray days such as we had yesterday.

Daffodils gleam against wet stone and the forsythias, so recently unpromising straggles of bare brown stems, throw up their arms, suddenly festooned with yellow bells, and ring out the glad message of Spring's imminent arrival.

All around us, Springtime yellows are unfurling, shining out like candles in the gloom.