A "what is it" wildflower

Last year I sowed a pack of wildflower seeds above the little knee wall I built. It produced some pretty flowers and I loved the cottage garden feel of it. I knew then I'd sow seeds there again this year regardless of what may have self-seeded. 

This little orange bloomer lived over our winter. I had no clue what it is and so I turned to Google for a bit of help. Google found an image of a Siberian Wildflower that's a match. Okay... something from Siberia wouldn't find our winters daunting. 

I'm not sure the name of the flower matters all that much. It's a pretty little thing and I'm happy to have four of them blooming, even if one is out in front of the wall and will be in danger of being decimated by the weed-whacker. 

This year's seeds have been sown and now I'm keeping an eye on the soil for signs of sprouting. Sometimes it really is the simple country pleasures that brighten our days. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

An old fashioned spring

a late dusting of snow

In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020, we are enjoying an old-fashioned spring. February brought lots of snow flurries, March was truly windy, April was wet with gentle rains, and it looks like our last nighttime freeze may well be mid-month. The ground has been slow to warm, but the little peeper frogs are in full voice after dark. 

As a girl, I wasn't allowed to wear shorts until after the first of May. I thought it was silly but looking back I see a certain wisdom in it. While the May breeze holds hints of warming, there is still a little bite of dampness there. 

I'm not bemoaning this slow spring. Everything is happening as it should. The trees are leafing out and the maple seeds hang heavy on the branches. Bare spots in the lawn are filling in and it's time for it to receive a last over-seeding. The lilacs are blooming, such as they do, and those blooms are lasting a long time. The ajuga and wood hyacinths cover the bank in shades of pink and purple. The tulips and daffodils have bloomed, and the hostas are mid-way to their full size. 

Everywhere I look I see something that needs to be done or will need to be done in a few days. It would be daunting if I allowed it to be. Instead, I prefer to look at it as part of my stewardship of this small part of the land. 

The peonies stand tall at this moment. They're full of buds and must be tied before the blooms open and weigh down the stalks. The lilacs will need to be pruned. Every year I make a circuit around the yard and cut back maple tree limbs that hang low enough to be a nuisance while mowing. And yes, the grass needs to be mowed. If I were able to purchase mulch I'd spread it but we remain under house arrest due to COVID-19. I am truly tired of my constitutional rights being trampled upon even as I understand the need to keep myself safe. 

It's not that being home on the manor is a hardship, but so much of what needs to be accomplished requires items I don't have. Like mulch. If this old-fashioned spring has taught me something, it's that my level of preparedness needs to be upped. Even life at the manor isn't immune to the actions of outsiders. I just need to out-think them. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Patience rewarded - white lilac bloom

Growing up, my mother had a beautiful white lilac bush that grew beside a telephone pole. It just so happened that it was also at our extra parking space. You know the one - the space the teenager got to park their car in because the folks had the driveway proper. I didn't mind at all. They allowed me to have my own car so it was okee-dokee. 

I loved that white lilac. For one thing, it was the only white I'd ever seen. My grandparents had several shades of purple, but not white. Every year my mother and aunt would cut blooms for inside. Even my grandmother would sometimes cut a bloom to take home with her. 

When I moved to the manor in 1981, or shortly thereafter, Mom and I dug a start of the white lilac for me. It's been growing since then and finally - finally! - it has started to bloom. For only the second time ever, that old bush has a bloom on it. My partner never believed it bloomed white because it didn't bloom. I can't really fault him since "seeing is believing." 

I hope this is a harbinger of years to come. Enjoying spring blooms is a simple country pleasure I never tire of. Patience has been rewarded. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor