Spring song has burst into an audible chorus up here in Faerie Holler and
the surrounding area here in Eastern Tennessee. I've been noticing the
usual signs of approaching spring at my own little holler and ridge.
Hellebore in full blown bells in shades of soft blush purple and cream's
with freckles. In four spots where I planted them. Some have shown me
they're much happier where they reside by bulking up more and giving me so
many blossoms it's tempting to cut a few for a spring bouquet, but I dare
not, they don't hold up well once whacked, no matter if you place them in
water immediately or not. These beauties are meant to be admired on the
plant.

But traveling back and forth between Dandridge and Knoxville to take son to
work has made me notice the little signs that a lot of people would take
for granted or go unnoticed until it gets right in your face (Like it is
now). I made notice to son the other day that Spring truly was on her way,
because the damned privet along the sides of the interstate at every edging
where trees and scrub and plants were peeking over the roadsides was
greening up. And not just noticeable, but that livid, electric green that
catches your eye. Despite that privet is an invasive weedy shrub here, the
fresh green of the leaves is a welcome sight to tired eyes used to the
somber greens of evergreen's and the tans and browns of winter palettes.

Traveling back and forth, I also noticed the arrival of the yellow bells of
Forsythia's. My own remaining specimen sits near the driveway, lucky to
even be allowed to reside where she does, but after successfully removing
her sister last year after whacking at the roots for a year and a half, I
was pleased to finally free up the space to then turn around and clutter the
spot up with assorted crowded shrubs.

The most astounding display is the one in front of my lower neighbor's front
yard. The forsythia's are ancient, and spaced about six feet across. Each
one is towering to around eight foot high, about six foot wide and there are
around six or seven of them, with alternating old white dogwoods tucked in
at randomness. A young redbud sits at the back of their mailbox, which has
an old Chinese almond bush around the base.

As you turn up the dead end road at the curve, the first thing you see are
those bright eye aching yellow forsythia's. In this instance, I adore them.
They have a front yard to revel in and give their all. Three of the seven
are blooming now. And the other three or four as I'm not sure of the
number, are past bloom and are leafing out. These bushes also turn a nice
burgundy wine color on their leaves come cold weather and hold their leaves
a long time before they finally drop. If I had that yard, I'd leave them be
and enjoy their beauty for what they are.

The little, old Chinese almond at the base of their mailbox is struggling.
It never reaches four foot, as the clay soil and gravel prevent it from
sending it's roots deeply enough to reach it's fullest potential. But the
little branches are loaded with pinkish white pom poms and it makes me
wonder if my own bush is blooming up in Faerie Holler.

The shrub cluster that I planted near the driveway is starting to bud and
pop out because that's where the south and western exposure is and it warms
up much faster there. My Lenneii magnolia has bulked up three blossoms and
is about to take off. I can hardly wait for her debut.

And since starting this a couple of days ago, and the warm temperatures and
drenching rains, Lenneii has started bursting open. The soft pink hugeness
of the flowers catches your breath. How I wish they had a fragrance, but I
suppose their beauty wouldn't be so striking if they held perfume as well as
intense beauty.

There are green pearls on the willow trees. Some really large specimens
around where I live, are dangling the stems loaded with green leaves that
look, as you pass them on the road, like green pearls. Every moist spot you
pass you hear peepers. And here on Faerie Holler ridge, you hear the
creeeeeeking of little frogs as well as the tree peepers. It is a song that
makes my heart swell with happiness. It might get cold or we'll have a
Mom's Nature snit fit with some plunging temperatures or even a snow as a
joke, but the peepers and creaking of the little frogs that reside in every
nook and niche around here will continue to sing and I will always attribute
the first days to their chorus.

When dusk starts to thread it's way into the area, I hear the early peepers,
anxious to get their serenades started. I can stand in the driveway, and
listen and my heart lifts with their tuning of vocal cords. Behind them,
the insistant melodious notes of mockingbirds, and the trills of the
Mountain bluebird, or Indigo Bunting, as you like to choose the identy.
Threading around these songs and harmonies, insect hums to fill the spaces
in the chorus and concert, and the other birds. Rapid thrum's of
woodpeckers and sap-suckers blend in the cacophony and add to the textures
of sounds.

Robins, Cardinals, Blue Jays, Crows, chickadees, cooing's of Morning doves,
every little type of bird is bursting with song. The air is literally
filled with a not unpleasant blend of a multitude of bird songs, and if you
sit still enough, you can seperate the songs out and almost locate the
songster. Back to the gardens...............................

I have tiny bells, stars and chimes everywhere around the gardens. Little
striped stars of white and blue of the Pushkinnia's that the fairies and me
tucked in here and there at random. Tulipa saxatilis, 'Lilac Wonder' is
blooming in a crowded pot of bulbs and reseeded Dames Rockets that sits out
front on the further west end of the gardens in the little island of "grass"
that now appears to be mostly vinca and other reseeded plants. Among those
residing outside the perimeters of the landscape timbers that need replacing
now for the edges, besides the Dames Rockets, are two clumps of Herbsonne
Rudbeckia that threw their seeds southward in hopes of furthering their
family. It worked. There is yet another clump to dig up and distribute
somewhere else.

More pink and white stars of Chinodoxia pop up here and there, tucked into
places by my busy little workers. And the Snowdrops fairy has been busy
scattering and nurturing seedlings of these neat little plants for me to
discover and enjoy. From the main clump in the middle of the Eastern bed,
the fairy in charge tenderly coaxed a seedling to pop up in the middle of
the Frakartii aster bed next to a hairy fern leaf clump of Oriental poppies.
It's all I can do to resist the urge to lift it and tuck it into the Black
Cherry garden.

And speaking of the Black Cherry garden......under her, the bed is popping
all over the place. Two huge clumps of Hellebore, one with a little
gnome/elf figurine whose name is Lilypon. She sits under the large,
leathery older leaves of the Hellebore plant near the driveway at the edge
that gets more sunlight. The success of the clump is because the toes of
this plant are mulched with leaves and compost. Her smile gazes up at you
when you part the leaves to reveal her gentle face as she has flowers and
frogs around her. A garden hat on her head and a long dress that I suspect
has pockets to put things into. She fits very well despite that she is a
water Crone. Her place would probably be better beside the fountain's
waters, but she seems to fit here.

In the bed, totally blowing my mind, are the Virginia Bluebells in the
whiskey barrel. They're in full bloom, their blue bells chiming in the
winds making imaginary tinkling as the breezes ruffle them as they hang
there at the edge of the barrel sides. Down below, the babies that the
seeds have sown are wiser and are just leafing out and making little
clusters of buds.

Over beside the Hellebore, a single Muscari has popped it's little pointy
head up thru the thick mat of leaves to unfurl a single stem with tiny,
round, blue ringed with white bells. So tiny and perfect, each one with the
white edged lips pursed and just open enough to encourage the teensy fliers
to come inside and taste of their spring pollens.

Beside the whiskey barrel, the primroses are open and the one I found at my
son's Lowes a few weeks back has settled it's toes into the rich compost and
pumping out these awesome black-red edged with white around each petal with
golden yellow throats. Their effect is stunning. You see them and have to
come close to admire them. Beside the two little plants of these black and
yellow flowers, is a fairy drunken with colors. On one primrose there is a
lavender with yellow throated flower, and near it on the same plant, red
blossoms, and a pink one. Unless the plants are separate and growing close
together this little clump is amazing to behold.

Beside that, my Woodstock hyacinths are finally sending out the deep grape
flowers. The cold from a few days ago have kissed the first flower bud, but
the flared bells under the first are fine, holding that deep grape purple
color that drew me to the package and the name sealed up the purchase last
fall.

I see buds forming on all the bulbs I tucked into the soils I poured and
mounded around the rest of the cherry tree last fall and wanting to have
something in the soils, tucked in bulbs of all sorts. Something I never
expected to survive that I've never had luck with is I have one tiny wind
flower. She is so beautiful, I hope she loves the soils here enough to
spread and colonize the earth I tucked her. If this survives, I will get
more little dried up rhizomes this fall to try more of.

Again, since starting this thread and ramble, the bulbs have shot out their
green tongues and produced flowers in humbling textures and design. Split
cup daffs, looking like the fairies took scissors and cut the cups and
gently pushed them against the collar of petals that ring those cups.
Shades of orange that draw the eye with complimenting petals of creamy
yellow.

Another clump of daffs that have just creamy yellowish white with fancy
ruffled edges on the cups. And blousy heads of triple daffs that are so
heavy they almost topple over. I had first one that was so wonderful to
discover that I kept coming back to admire her until yesterday I saw that
she had been joined by sisters all pleated and ruffled and fancy liken to
herself. Tucked in those creamy yellowish white gatherings like some
silken, faerie petticoat, are stray slips of fabric in a soft shade of
orange, just to tease the eye. I want so badly to pluck them and bring
them in, but they wouldn't last nearly as long in a vase as they are
hovering over their mother bulb.

The one lone muscari has been joined by a clump of little pointy headed
soldiers that I must have tucked down inside the bricko block holes in
desperation to not disturb bulbs I had randomly planted last fall. They
rise up just past the opening at the edge of the driveway and the edge of
the black cherry bed, and openly laugh at me.

And the blueness of the Grace Ward! Words can not describe the amazing
brightness and depth of this blue of these flowers. The bumblies have
discovered each of the five clumps I tucked lovingly into the soils under
the black cherry tree shade garden on the eastern side, and under the Lady
Jane magnolia, and have laid claim to them as theirs. The blue is so
bright, you want to see if there's a hole up in the sky missing like a
jigsaw piece that has fallen..................

Over on the boardwalk that leads to my nook and the closed den door (because
against it are shelves holding tender plants chomping at the bits to get
OUTSIDE in the fresh rains and air) I have a pot planted with a whole
regiment of Muscari bulbs. They greeted me the other day in full formation.
So I picked up the pot, and placed it on the wide railing that Squire and
youngest son had built for me a few seasons past. Up at eye level, you can
see the superb details of each little "grape" blossom. Perfectly round,
with slight pursed edges of white at the bottoms that only admit the tiniest
pollinators that have wakened with early Spring breath.

The clay pot that is loaded with assorted surprises shows me that there are
stirrings of white balloon flowers, a few slivers of Bright Lights phlox and
mystery bulbs. Just today, they revealed themselves to be the orange
species tulips with the black throats you have to bend down and admire in
the foliage that almost swallows them up.

I'm totally excited now with the promise of stray appearances, so I
continued
my wanderings and observations. I have to check out sedums and succulents.
And every planting has not only awakened, but plumped up, bulked out and
started sending out tentative strings with young children, those little
"chicks" as they're so cutely described (and so adequate) in their minature
replication of their parent plants, shooting out from underneath the
protective skirts of their "moms". I'm like some crazed, fat fairy again,
running helter skelter all over the place like some loon in my garden hat
and digital camera. I can't get close enough to capture the details of
these textures and leaves and shoots. The camera sees so much better at
times, and I appreciate the little details so much
more............sigh..........I tend to wax a bit enthusiastic, but it is
still my passion and it IS finally Spring up here.

I stop in my tracks. My heart swells. I am sooooo proud and pleased. It's
my last year's purchase when I still had my truck. The fourteen foot, 25
gallon pot of Lady Jane magnolia. She was loaded with little fuzzy buds,
and now, when I wasn't looking, they bulked up and started splitting the
calyxes The sight of her is awesome. I count 16 fat blossoms and there are
even more developing on the ends of her twigs.

Underneath her arms, I've planted a pot of happy little daff's and some
golden crocus that are already finished. Grace Ward slipped in nicely. I
have since purchased a couple of small pots of Arenaria to balance the deep
blue flowers. The white bells should be fantastic when they set buds.

The sixteen have now become a whole shrub full of pink and shades of pink
blossoms in several sizes, and now with the unusual warm spell, petals lie
scattered on the ground and in the raised bed around her like perfect silk
pieces. I had spotted two healthy columbine that had seeded on the terraced
ridge that runs behind the house before it drops off, and I had lifted them
up and out of the clay soil and plopped them into the soils I had filled in
around Lady Jane, and right afterwards, they were drenched with three inches
of a good soaking rain, so they're starting to get over their shock of
transplanting and might survive. If they only flower and seed their
hundreds of shiny black seeds, I'll be satisfied.

I've gone quite pot mad, though. The residents that are already planted up
are starting to waken in their clustered spots near the front sliver-yard.
My mom's concrete pot has a wakening bristly beard of phlox. Tiny little
trumpet like pink flowers are starting to pop open. the digital camera
reveals one has a ring of blue flame like edging around the mouth of the
tiny flowers I've never noticed before. I'm in flower heaven!

A pot I thought I'd planted in a white phlox has fooled me and the return
occupent is a pink one. And my Marilyn tulip has thrown up a child blossom
to make me smile. I make mental note to feed the bulbs some food to
hopefully insure they return and give me at least one flower next year.
Even one is appreciated in her beauty. A soft yellow, brushed with flames
of reddish on the insides and ringed around each petal with deep burgundy
that is barely perceptible. You have to stop and not only smell the flowers
here, you have to really LOOK at them and appreciate their individual
beauty.

And the smells! This year, the Korean spice viburnum has graced me with TWO
flower clusters on the ends of two branches. I can't imagine a mature shrub
one day that will perfume the air. I hope I can experience it one day. I
shared her scent today with a young woman who was amazed at the perfume of
this flower. I then led her to the Cheerfulness narcissus to smell their
tiny ruffled flowers in threes on one stem, and she did what I always do,
she exhaled and went "yummmmmmmmmm, that's almost mouth watering!" I tell
her it smells good enough to eat but is not fit for consumption.

The air is literally filled with the sound of humming as you stand
listening, and you realize as I did yesterday that the black cherry tree has
not only popped open, and is literally filled with blossoms, but the bee's
are back in abundant droves. I remember I once described it as the tree was
humming......well it's not learned the words yet, and it is humming again.
It's a relief to hear the familiar sound. I stood transfixed yesterday and
took pictures of heavily laden branches with white flowers at every three
inches and intersection of branch and twig. I wish I had so many cherries
later on............it would be wonderous!

The smell of this tree is so sweet, and the sight of her is truely sobering.
I couldn't stand it and was so moved it made me cry with the beauty of this
gift I've enjoyed for ten years now. And this year's blossoming seemed to
assure me that it was as glorious as it was when we first got this house and
property and it bloomed for us on the day we moved in. It might be missing
a large water spout trunk that I had to cut off after flames from a burning
damaged it, but the tree has forgiven Squire and me for the harm and grown
more lower branches I refuse to cut back. Each one of these branches that
dip low, are covered in blossoms.

Dragging myself away from her boughs of thousands of flowers, I go and
admire the inhabitants of the driveway and brick "patio" area.

Hairy leafed poppy in cautionary wads in the Frakartii bed. A surprise
appearance by another seedling snowdrop. Two glorious double, almost triple
narcissus of undetermined linage that are so top heavy, I relented and
snapped their hollow stems and placed them in a vase inside. Next year I
will mark the spot and be ready with support wire to hold them up to endure
the spring coolness and their flowers will last longer than when they're
cut.

Everywhere I see daff's up and my smile becomes a part of my face. Soft,
clean white outer petals of some with the cups wide open like laughing
mouths, starting with the softest baby yellow, and flushing with a tender
pink raspberry, that ends as a darker raspberry pink that from the full
front of her, looks like a ring around the mouth of the cup. Up close with
a picture, you see the true colorations and it's hard to imagine just how
each flower blossom is so different from her sister. There are two perfect
ones of this sort.

A good clump of peachy cupped beauties that are Flamingo pink are nestled
against a fairy a sweet young girl gave me one year for having her in my
home for a year when she had no other place to go. I have dubbed the faerie
"Kristina" in her honor, and she sits vigil at the corner of the BBQ bricks
that now form a small wall where various plants reside.

True faerie daffs that I planted near the other little resin
gnome/faerie/elf figurine named Bulb are not only up but enchant me to kneel
down to inspect and admire them. Bulb sits under the Vitex bush, near the
slowly spreading clump of Nancy lamium. Around him, I had tucked two kinds
of bulbs. A clean, soft ruffled butter yellow and white that rise up over
his pointy hatted head, (he holds a gladiolas bulb in his hands) and these
little tiny ones whose name escape me. These are so neat! Tiny, tiny
little daffs. These have three to five flowers per stem, soft creamy white
with perfect little "cups" like tiny cups on saucers. The flowers are no
bigger than my fingertips. I can hold the whole miniature bouquet of them
between my fingers and the only way I can see their perfection is to snap a
picture of them on my digital camera.

Each of these little outer petals end in a perfect point that makes me
tinkle a laugh from my lips. Awesome. I can't admire them enough. While
kneeling there in admiration, I see a hint of both pink and blue. I believe
they are the Chinodoxia's that I had tucked in the pot of heuchera's.

I also see fresh green in clumps and I know the Lemon Verbena is awake., I
run my fingers thru their young leaves and am rewarded with the distinct
smell of lemon. ahhhhhhhhh. I kneel and start pulling out maple seedlings
and notice more and more coming up, and realize..........I need to make a
second part to this, as it's all just too much.........so that's what I'll
do, I'll continue this and drag you all thru faerie holler. Until a bit
later, then, thanks for allowing me this long to share some of the magic
that is unfolding up here.

madgardener, up on the ridge, back in bursting Faerie Holler, overlooking
English Mountain (whose hillsides and woods are tinged with the lavender
pink of thousands of redbuds!) in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36

Oh, Maddie, Send me some pics!

Gloria

"madgardener" wrote in message
...
Spring song has burst into an audible chorus up here in Faerie Holler and
the surrounding area here in Eastern Tennessee. I've been noticing the
usual signs of approaching spring at my own little holler and ridge.
Hellebore in full blown bells in shades of soft blush purple and cream's
with freckles. In four spots where I planted them. Some have shown me
they're much happier where they reside by bulking up more and giving me so
many blossoms it's tempting to cut a few for a spring bouquet, but I dare
not, they don't hold up well once whacked, no matter if you place them in
water immediately or not. These beauties are meant to be admired on the
plant.

But traveling back and forth between Dandridge and Knoxville to take son to
work has made me notice the little signs that a lot of people would take
for granted or go unnoticed until it gets right in your face (Like it is
now). I made notice to son the other day that Spring truly was on her way,
because the damned privet along the sides of the interstate at every edging
where trees and scrub and plants were peeking over the roadsides was
greening up. And not just noticeable, but that livid, electric green that
catches your eye. Despite that privet is an invasive weedy shrub here, the
fresh green of the leaves is a welcome sight to tired eyes used to the
somber greens of evergreen's and the tans and browns of winter palettes.

Traveling back and forth, I also noticed the arrival of the yellow bells of
Forsythia's. My own remaining specimen sits near the driveway, lucky to
even be allowed to reside where she does, but after successfully removing
her sister last year after whacking at the roots for a year and a half, I
was pleased to finally free up the space to then turn around and clutter the
spot up with assorted crowded shrubs.

The most astounding display is the one in front of my lower neighbor's front
yard. The forsythia's are ancient, and spaced about six feet across. Each
one is towering to around eight foot high, about six foot wide and there are
around six or seven of them, with alternating old white dogwoods tucked in
at randomness. A young redbud sits at the back of their mailbox, which has
an old Chinese almond bush around the base.

As you turn up the dead end road at the curve, the first thing you see are
those bright eye aching yellow forsythia's. In this instance, I adore them.
They have a front yard to revel in and give their all. Three of the seven
are blooming now. And the other three or four as I'm not sure of the
number, are past bloom and are leafing out. These bushes also turn a nice
burgundy wine color on their leaves come cold weather and hold their leaves
a long time before they finally drop. If I had that yard, I'd leave them be
and enjoy their beauty for what they are.

The little, old Chinese almond at the base of their mailbox is struggling.
It never reaches four foot, as the clay soil and gravel prevent it from
sending it's roots deeply enough to reach it's fullest potential. But the
little branches are loaded with pinkish white pom poms and it makes me
wonder if my own bush is blooming up in Faerie Holler.

The shrub cluster that I planted near the driveway is starting to bud and
pop out because that's where the south and western exposure is and it warms
up much faster there. My Lenneii magnolia has bulked up three blossoms and
is about to take off. I can hardly wait for her debut.

And since starting this a couple of days ago, and the warm temperatures and
drenching rains, Lenneii has started bursting open. The soft pink hugeness
of the flowers catches your breath. How I wish they had a fragrance, but I
suppose their beauty wouldn't be so striking if they held perfume as well as
intense beauty.

There are green pearls on the willow trees. Some really large specimens
around where I live, are dangling the stems loaded with green leaves that
look, as you pass them on the road, like green pearls. Every moist spot you
pass you hear peepers. And here on Faerie Holler ridge, you hear the
creeeeeeking of little frogs as well as the tree peepers. It is a song that
makes my heart swell with happiness. It might get cold or we'll have a
Mom's Nature snit fit with some plunging temperatures or even a snow as a
joke, but the peepers and creaking of the little frogs that reside in every
nook and niche around here will continue to sing and I will always attribute
the first days to their chorus.

When dusk starts to thread it's way into the area, I hear the early peepers,
anxious to get their serenades started. I can stand in the driveway, and
listen and my heart lifts with their tuning of vocal cords. Behind them,
the insistant melodious notes of mockingbirds, and the trills of the
Mountain bluebird, or Indigo Bunting, as you like to choose the identy.
Threading around these songs and harmonies, insect hums to fill the spaces
in the chorus and concert, and the other birds. Rapid thrum's of
woodpeckers and sap-suckers blend in the cacophony and add to the textures
of sounds.

Robins, Cardinals, Blue Jays, Crows, chickadees, cooing's of Morning doves,
every little type of bird is bursting with song. The air is literally
filled with a not unpleasant blend of a multitude of bird songs, and if you
sit still enough, you can seperate the songs out and almost locate the
songster. Back to the gardens...............................

I have tiny bells, stars and chimes everywhere around the gardens. Little
striped stars of white and blue of the Pushkinnia's that the fairies and me
tucked in here and there at random. Tulipa saxatilis, 'Lilac Wonder' is
blooming in a crowded pot of bulbs and reseeded Dames Rockets that sits out
front on the further west end of the gardens in the little island of "grass"
that now appears to be mostly vinca and other reseeded plants. Among those
residing outside the perimeters of the landscape timbers that need replacing
now for the edges, besides the Dames Rockets, are two clumps of Herbsonne
Rudbeckia that threw their seeds southward in hopes of furthering their
family. It worked. There is yet another clump to dig up and distribute
somewhere else.

More pink and white stars of Chinodoxia pop up here and there, tucked into
places by my busy little workers. And the Snowdrops fairy has been busy
scattering and nurturing seedlings of these neat little plants for me to
discover and enjoy. From the main clump in the middle of the Eastern bed,
the fairy in charge tenderly coaxed a seedling to pop up in the middle of
the Frakartii aster bed next to a hairy fern leaf clump of Oriental poppies.
It's all I can do to resist the urge to lift it and tuck it into the Black
Cherry garden.

And speaking of the Black Cherry garden......under her, the bed is popping
all over the place. Two huge clumps of Hellebore, one with a little
gnome/elf figurine whose name is Lilypon. She sits under the large,
leathery older leaves of the Hellebore plant near the driveway at the edge
that gets more sunlight. The success of the clump is because the toes of
this plant are mulched with leaves and compost. Her smile gazes up at you
when you part the leaves to reveal her gentle face as she has flowers and
frogs around her. A garden hat on her head and a long dress that I suspect
has pockets to put things into. She fits very well despite that she is a
water Crone. Her place would probably be better beside the fountain's
waters, but she seems to fit here.

In the bed, totally blowing my mind, are the Virginia Bluebells in the
whiskey barrel. They're in full bloom, their blue bells chiming in the
winds making imaginary tinkling as the breezes ruffle them as they hang
there at the edge of the barrel sides. Down below, the babies that the
seeds have sown are wiser and are just leafing out and making little
clusters of buds.

Over beside the Hellebore, a single Muscari has popped it's little pointy
head up thru the thick mat of leaves to unfurl a single stem with tiny,
round, blue ringed with white bells. So tiny and perfect, each one with the
white edged lips pursed and just open enough to encourage the teensy fliers
to come inside and taste of their spring pollens.

Beside the whiskey barrel, the primroses are open and the one I found at my
son's Lowes a few weeks back has settled it's toes into the rich compost and
pumping out these awesome black-red edged with white around each petal with
golden yellow throats. Their effect is stunning. You see them and have to
come close to admire them. Beside the two little plants of these black and
yellow flowers, is a fairy drunken with colors. On one primrose there is a
lavender with yellow throated flower, and near it on the same plant, red
blossoms, and a pink one. Unless the plants are separate and growing close
together this little clump is amazing to behold.

Beside that, my Woodstock hyacinths are finally sending out the deep grape
flowers. The cold from a few days ago have kissed the first flower bud, but
the flared bells under the first are fine, holding that deep grape purple
color that drew me to the package and the name sealed up the purchase last
fall.

I see buds forming on all the bulbs I tucked into the soils I poured and
mounded around the rest of the cherry tree last fall and wanting to have
something in the soils, tucked in bulbs of all sorts. Something I never
expected to survive that I've never had luck with is I have one tiny wind
flower. She is so beautiful, I hope she loves the soils here enough to
spread and colonize the earth I tucked her. If this survives, I will get
more little dried up rhizomes this fall to try more of.

Again, since starting this thread and ramble, the bulbs have shot out their
green tongues and produced flowers in humbling textures and design. Split
cup daffs, looking like the fairies took scissors and cut the cups and
gently pushed them against the collar of petals that ring those cups.
Shades of orange that draw the eye with complimenting petals of creamy
yellow.

Another clump of daffs that have just creamy yellowish white with fancy
ruffled edges on the cups. And blousy heads of triple daffs that are so
heavy they almost topple over. I had first one that was so wonderful to
discover that I kept coming back to admire her until yesterday I saw that
she had been joined by sisters all pleated and ruffled and fancy liken to
herself. Tucked in those creamy yellowish white gatherings like some
silken, faerie petticoat, are stray slips of fabric in a soft shade of
orange, just to tease the eye. I want so badly to pluck them and bring
them in, but they wouldn't last nearly as long in a vase as they are
hovering over their mother bulb.

The one lone muscari has been joined by a clump of little pointy headed
soldiers that I must have tucked down inside the bricko block holes in
desperation to not disturb bulbs I had randomly planted last fall. They
rise up just past the opening at the edge of the driveway and the edge of
the black cherry bed, and openly laugh at me.

And the blueness of the Grace Ward! Words can not describe the amazing
brightness and depth of this blue of these flowers. The bumblies have
discovered each of the five clumps I tucked lovingly into the soils under
the black cherry tree shade garden on the eastern side, and under the Lady
Jane magnolia, and have laid claim to them as theirs. The blue is so
bright, you want to see if there's a hole up in the sky missing like a
jigsaw piece that has fallen..................

Over on the boardwalk that leads to my nook and the closed den door (because
against it are shelves holding tender plants chomping at the bits to get
OUTSIDE in the fresh rains and air) I have a pot planted with a whole
regiment of Muscari bulbs. They greeted me the other day in full formation.
So I picked up the pot, and placed it on the wide railing that Squire and
youngest son had built for me a few seasons past. Up at eye level, you can
see the superb details of each little "grape" blossom. Perfectly round,
with slight pursed edges of white at the bottoms that only admit the tiniest
pollinators that have wakened with early Spring breath.

The clay pot that is loaded with assorted surprises shows me that there are
stirrings of white balloon flowers, a few slivers of Bright Lights phlox and
mystery bulbs. Just today, they revealed themselves to be the orange
species tulips with the black throats you have to bend down and admire in
the foliage that almost swallows them up.

I'm totally excited now with the promise of stray appearances, so I
continued
my wanderings and observations. I have to check out sedums and succulents.
And every planting has not only awakened, but plumped up, bulked out and
started sending out tentative strings with young children, those little
"chicks" as they're so cutely described (and so adequate) in their minature
replication of their parent plants, shooting out from underneath the
protective skirts of their "moms". I'm like some crazed, fat fairy again,
running helter skelter all over the place like some loon in my garden hat
and digital camera. I can't get close enough to capture the details of
these textures and leaves and shoots. The camera sees so much better at
times, and I appreciate the little details so much
more............sigh..........I tend to wax a bit enthusiastic, but it is
still my passion and it IS finally Spring up here.

I stop in my tracks. My heart swells. I am sooooo proud and pleased. It's
my last year's purchase when I still had my truck. The fourteen foot, 25
gallon pot of Lady Jane magnolia. She was loaded with little fuzzy buds,
and now, when I wasn't looking, they bulked up and started splitting the
calyxes The sight of her is awesome. I count 16 fat blossoms and there are
even more developing on the ends of her twigs.

Underneath her arms, I've planted a pot of happy little daff's and some
golden crocus that are already finished. Grace Ward slipped in nicely. I
have since purchased a couple of small pots of Arenaria to balance the deep
blue flowers. The white bells should be fantastic when they set buds.

The sixteen have now become a whole shrub full of pink and shades of pink
blossoms in several sizes, and now with the unusual warm spell, petals lie
scattered on the ground and in the raised bed around her like perfect silk
pieces. I had spotted two healthy columbine that had seeded on the terraced
ridge that runs behind the house before it drops off, and I had lifted them
up and out of the clay soil and plopped them into the soils I had filled in
around Lady Jane, and right afterwards, they were drenched with three inches
of a good soaking rain, so they're starting to get over their shock of
transplanting and might survive. If they only flower and seed their
hundreds of shiny black seeds, I'll be satisfied.

I've gone quite pot mad, though. The residents that are already planted up
are starting to waken in their clustered spots near the front sliver-yard.
My mom's concrete pot has a wakening bristly beard of phlox. Tiny little
trumpet like pink flowers are starting to pop open. the digital camera
reveals one has a ring of blue flame like edging around the mouth of the
tiny flowers I've never noticed before. I'm in flower heaven!

A pot I thought I'd planted in a white phlox has fooled me and the return
occupent is a pink one. And my Marilyn tulip has thrown up a child blossom
to make me smile. I make mental note to feed the bulbs some food to
hopefully insure they return and give me at least one flower next year.
Even one is appreciated in her beauty. A soft yellow, brushed with flames
of reddish on the insides and ringed around each petal with deep burgundy
that is barely perceptible. You have to stop and not only smell the flowers
here, you have to really LOOK at them and appreciate their individual
beauty.

And the smells! This year, the Korean spice viburnum has graced me with TWO
flower clusters on the ends of two branches. I can't imagine a mature shrub
one day that will perfume the air. I hope I can experience it one day. I
shared her scent today with a young woman who was amazed at the perfume of
this flower. I then led her to the Cheerfulness narcissus to smell their
tiny ruffled flowers in threes on one stem, and she did what I always do,
she exhaled and went "yummmmmmmmmm, that's almost mouth watering!" I tell
her it smells good enough to eat but is not fit for consumption.

The air is literally filled with the sound of humming as you stand
listening, and you realize as I did yesterday that the black cherry tree has
not only popped open, and is literally filled with blossoms, but the bee's
are back in abundant droves. I remember I once described it as the tree was
humming......well it's not learned the words yet, and it is humming again.
It's a relief to hear the familiar sound. I stood transfixed yesterday and
took pictures of heavily laden branches with white flowers at every three
inches and intersection of branch and twig. I wish I had so many cherries
later on............it would be wonderous!

The smell of this tree is so sweet, and the sight of her is truely sobering.
I couldn't stand it and was so moved it made me cry with the beauty of this
gift I've enjoyed for ten years now. And this year's blossoming seemed to
assure me that it was as glorious as it was when we first got this house and
property and it bloomed for us on the day we moved in. It might be missing
a large water spout trunk that I had to cut off after flames from a burning
damaged it, but the tree has forgiven Squire and me for the harm and grown
more lower branches I refuse to cut back. Each one of these branches that
dip low, are covered in blossoms.

Dragging myself away from her boughs of thousands of flowers, I go and
admire the inhabitants of the driveway and brick "patio" area.

Hairy leafed poppy in cautionary wads in the Frakartii bed. A surprise
appearance by another seedling snowdrop. Two glorious double, almost triple
narcissus of undetermined linage that are so top heavy, I relented and
snapped their hollow stems and placed them in a vase inside. Next year I
will mark the spot and be ready with support wire to hold them up to endure
the spring coolness and their flowers will last longer than when they're
cut.

Everywhere I see daff's up and my smile becomes a part of my face. Soft,
clean white outer petals of some with the cups wide open like laughing
mouths, starting with the softest baby yellow, and flushing with a tender
pink raspberry, that ends as a darker raspberry pink that from the full
front of her, looks like a ring around the mouth of the cup. Up close with
a picture, you see the true colorations and it's hard to imagine just how
each flower blossom is so different from her sister. There are two perfect
ones of this sort.

A good clump of peachy cupped beauties that are Flamingo pink are nestled
against a fairy a sweet young girl gave me one year for having her in my
home for a year when she had no other place to go. I have dubbed the faerie
"Kristina" in her honor, and she sits vigil at the corner of the BBQ bricks
that now form a small wall where various plants reside.

True faerie daffs that I planted near the other little resin
gnome/faerie/elf figurine named Bulb are not only up but enchant me to kneel
down to inspect and admire them. Bulb sits under the Vitex bush, near the
slowly spreading clump of Nancy lamium. Around him, I had tucked two kinds
of bulbs. A clean, soft ruffled butter yellow and white that rise up over
his pointy hatted head, (he holds a gladiolas bulb in his hands) and these
little tiny ones whose name escape me. These are so neat! Tiny, tiny
little daffs. These have three to five flowers per stem, soft creamy white
with perfect little "cups" like tiny cups on saucers. The flowers are no
bigger than my fingertips. I can hold the whole miniature bouquet of them
between my fingers and the only way I can see their perfection is to snap a
picture of them on my digital camera.

Each of these little outer petals end in a perfect point that makes me
tinkle a laugh from my lips. Awesome. I can't admire them enough. While
kneeling there in admiration, I see a hint of both pink and blue. I believe
they are the Chinodoxia's that I had tucked in the pot of heuchera's.

I also see fresh green in clumps and I know the Lemon Verbena is awake., I
run my fingers thru their young leaves and am rewarded with the distinct
smell of lemon. ahhhhhhhhh. I kneel and start pulling out maple seedlings
and notice more and more coming up, and realize..........I need to make a
second part to this, as it's all just too much.........so that's what I'll
do, I'll continue this and drag you all thru faerie holler. Until a bit
later, then, thanks for allowing me this long to share some of the magic
that is unfolding up here.

madgardener, up on the ridge, back in bursting Faerie Holler, overlooking
English Mountain (whose hillsides and woods are tinged with the lavender
pink of thousands of redbuds!) in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36