Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Frost warnings relocate my potted annuals each evening and the night sky is clear, my early perennials moonlit, earth like day. Mornings have been breezy, bright, cool and I get my dogs out early to deny black flies much sought after blood. Afternoons are spent in bug jackets, weeding, splitting, mulching, planting.
Still, like the land that surrounds us, my garden is a wild thing. The more I try to control it the more it defies me.
Finally, it is me that disappears, self-awareness mulched deep in the soil of time. The camera, a wondrous instrument, channels and captures parts of this journey. Here is the first of many spring mornings --- Lost in May.
Thank you for visiting
Hiding Within -- Fringed Polygala
Goldthread
Bunchberry
Hitching a Ride - Marsh Blue Violet
Pincushion
Red Trillium
Rain Soaked Grass
Unnamed flowering tree