Those first green shoots

"Before the seed there comes the thought of bloom."
- E. B. White 

It's a cold rainy night with a prediction of snow in the wee hours of the morning.

While the rain falls and the wind blows, I'm cozy inside dreaming of seeds and blooms and thinking of the green shoots appearing in my garden.

I'll be ordering some seeds later tonight, but there are a few blooms that I won't have to wait for.

 This African Daisy has survived all winter in a container on my deck. 

This bud and another appeared this week. It's my hope that tonight's cold snap won't destroy them.

And one of my favorites, the pincushion flower, has begun to bloom.  I love the way it looked earlier this week in the morning light with raindrops glistening on it.  It's not a showy flower, but a reliable one that blooms much of the year.  When it's at it's flowering peak in the Spring, I love to use it in little nosegay vases with dianthus blooms.

 Yesterday was a warm day, and the rain earlier this week softened the ground around the weeds making them easier to pull out by hand.  I spent several hours cleaning and clearing the beds all the while thinking of how it would be transformed in just another month or two.  I was reminded of the scene in "The Secret Garden" when Mary first discovered the tender shoots of green, for there were shoots of green everywhere in my garden - daffodils, Easter lilies, columbine, daylilies, salvia, sedum, verbena, and more.

“However many years she lived, Mary always felt that 'she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow'.”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Each year, when the green shoots appear, it's like a miracle all over again - 

as if it's the first time those green shoots have appeared.  What joy! 

 Is this what we wait eagerly for - not the blooms - but instead the first signs of new growth? 

Even though the winter has been warm and we have early and unexpected blooms, the thrill that I receive from the miracle of Spring will not be diminished.

"The Secret Garden"

Are there gardens that you love and would like to model your own garden after?   Carol of May Dreams Gardens asks that question on her blog, and if you comment with an answer, you'll have a chance to win a copy of "Monet's Passion" by Elizabeth Murray, courtesy of Pomegranate Communications.
Of course I wanted a chance to win this book (which Carol reviews in her blog post), and so started thinking about gardens that I love.  The first garden that came to mind is one I've only seen in my imagination.  A garden pictured in words by Frances Hodgson Burnett in her children's book "The Secret Garden."  

The garden is central to the book and to the physical and emotional healing of the characters and that's  its greatest appeal.  I want my garden to be a retreat - a peaceful place full of butterflies and birds, the scent of flowers and herbs, with the shade of trees and the music of trickling water.  With pastel colors in the spring, bright colors in midsummer, and warm reds, yellows, and oranges in the fall.  Where there are evergreens and red berries in winter.  Where the noise and hurry of the world are shut out by the ivy-covered walls.  A magical place.
Here is Frances Hodgson Burnett's description of the garden at the conclusion of the book (Should I say "spoiler alert"?):

The place was a wilderness of autumn gold and purple and violet blue and flaming scarlet and on every side were sheaves of late lilies standing together -- lilies which were white or white and ruby. He remembered well when the first of them had been planted that just at this season of the year their late glories should reveal themselves. Late roses climbed and hung and clustered and the sunshine deepening the hue of the yellowing trees made one feel that one stood in an embowered temple of gold.

It's not likely that I'll ever create my dream garden. But I'm blessed by every minute I spend planting, weeding, and just relaxing in the one I have.  And I can visit this other garden any time I wish just by closing my eyes.

"However many years she lived, Mary always felt that 'she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow'." 

— Frances Hodgson Burnett (The Secret Garden)