The clouds finally dried up and blew away today, leaving the sun and the scent of promise.
I walked intrepid through the masses of clover that are my yard, inspecting the various beds.
Everything is plump and ready to burst, The Daffodils bloomed last week, but the Irises are more stubborn. They'll be well worth the wait though, same with the Cala Lilies. They're my favorite - sunshine on a stem, such a flawless shade of vivid yellow.
Cala Lilies are the perfect woman of the garden, strong and elegant, vibrant and hardy, determined and feminine. They're certainly not petite, but they're gorgeous.
Every plant we have is a rescue - plants Scotty has brought home from yards where customers asked to have beds removed or thinned or redesigned. Nothing we have bloomed last year, we got them too late in the season to see them decked out. This spring will be a succession of surprises, we didn't know the Daffodils were Daffodils until they bloomed. We have a rose bush off the corner of the back patio, and no idea what color the roses will be. The Azalea will be a color surprise too. I'm hoping for pink or lilac. White would be OK, except for the horrible brown color the flowers turn after they've passed their peak.
And the Dogwood, my Mona Lisa, is just a day or two from full bloom. She's gorgeous in Spring, and in Fall, with her scarlet leaves and berries. Eventually we'll have to move out of this house -- it will be Mona Lisa that I miss the most when we do.