I hate to use the word "typical," since weather patterns seem to be anything BUT typical these days, but true to spring-in-the-Rockies form we spent our entire weekend in glorious rain (and a little snow). We've been so desperately dry here that two cloudy, damp days were a blissful change. But STILL. Can't I put away at least one layer of fleece now?
Yesterday I took a long walk in the cold and gray and was rewarded with a pair of American avocets at Frantz Lake. Common elsewhere, avocets seem to only pass through our area, and getting a glimpse is a treat. A black phoebe is back, too... and suddenly I am twitchy to be out walking as often as possible.
Here at 7,000 feet altitude we have only the tiniest bits of green showing through the ochre and brown. I don't mind too much, until I start wandering around the blogosphere and see photos of lower altitude gardens in bloom. (sigh) Patience. Patience.
When we moved in to this house last spring we were faced with a yard that had been sadly neglected. We did what we could to clean it up last season (a particular challenge during the month-long roof replacement adventure), but there is still a lot to do. With the generous help of mad gardener friends we managed to put in a few new plantings, and several times a day I wander out to the yard to see what has survived my novice gardener stumblings.
Here come the daylilies! Friend Scott, from whose garden these were transplanted last year, assured me that even an inexperienced gardener like me couldn't kill daylilies... and he was right!
Discovering things that we didn't plant and which didn't show their faces last year is fun, too. There are hyacinth, and tulips, and one or two as-yet-unidentified mysteries poking out of beds that last year hosted... erm... less desirable... plant life. Yippee! Now, if I can just keep the deer from chomping on them.
The grass is starting to green up in the park down the street and this, of course, makes me long for the farmer's market. Last week the DM and I paid our deposit for our veggie share from Weathervane Farm, our local CSA. Do I really have to wait until June to spend Saturday mornings visiting with friends, eating fresh-baked strudel, and procuring the week's foodstuffs? (another sigh) Patience. Patience.
Oh, forget patience. I'm gonna go check the yard again. Maybe something new came up in the last three hours.