March 11, 2026 π± The humble hosta coming out of dormancy.
March 11, 2026 π± The humble hosta coming out of dormancy.
Possibly. I do have chives elsewhere in the garden. Weβll see if this plant makes chive-flowers.
Bloom baby bloom!
A clump of grasslike leaves, many of which are bent or coiled.
March 10, 2025 π± Something grass-adjacent with an adorable case of bedhead.
It was a blindingly white winter, for sure.
Enjoy spring!
March 9, 2026 π± One of my OG columbine plants, entering its third year.
March 8, 2026 π± An infestation of snowdrops.
March 7, 2026 π± Iβm hoping one of these two sprouts might be the large-flowered beardtongue I planted. But neither looks right.
Iβm fond of my little rabbit neighbors. It helps that they mostly eat the weeds. Iβve watched a bun go to town on some thistle.
So kind of you to bring the apple buds down to their level π
We donβt have deer and turkeys here, but we have plenty of squirrels.
They keep digging up my freshly transplanted plants. I wish they wouldnβt.
And sometimes they get weird.
March 6, 2026 π± Somebunnyβs been snacking on the grape hyacinth.
March 5, 2026 π± The strawberry patch is still dormant.
Fingers crossed! May you have an abundance of crocus.
March 4, 2026 π± A gaggle of crocuses. They are in fact spreading.
March 3, 2026 π± The silky aster going into its third year.
March 2, 2026 π± All the snow thawedβ¦ again. The garden is soggy and flattened and drab.
But look what I found! The snowdrops emerged two weeks earlier than last year.
Thyme branches sticking out from several inches of fresh snow.
February 23, 2026 π± It took several days, but all the snow eventually melted as temperatures soared into the sixties Fahrenheit (over 15Β°C).
Then we settled right back into the winteriest winter Iβve ever experienced.
February 15, 2026 π± The snow continues to thaw and reveal what had been buried.
Two boulders and a tree trunk surrounded by thawing snow.
February 11, 2026 π± The snow is thawing, and garden landmarks are reappearing.
Dry frost aster, goldenrod, and evening primrose stems in deep snow.
February 2, 2026 π§΅ Hereβs some frost aster, goldenrod, and evening primrose peeking out of the snow.
Pretty much the entire rest of the garden is buried.
Some gnarly icicles hanging off a snow-covered roof.
January 27, 2026 π± Snow is still coming down, the roads are ice, schools are closed for the fourth time in a week, and the neighborβs roof could use more insulation.
January 19, 2025 π± And weβre back to being buried in it.
There was another school closing last week, and we wouldnβt be surprised if thereβs yet another tomorrow.
January 12, 2026 π± Yesterday was the first moderate snowfall of this fall-winter. It actually felt strange to have snow on the ground but not be buried in it.
Most of the snow was gone by today. Hereβs the remnants of the rose mallow in the remnants of the snow.
Oh wow!
The crows are loud too, and eerie.
January 7, 2026 π± The snow melted, revealing an unholy amount of crow poop.
At least the garden gets fertilized?
Yes, a blanket of snow!
A corner of the garden covered in several inches of fresh snow.
December 29, 2025 π± It was well above freezing yesterday.
We expected the temperature to drop overnight, but I did not expect to wake up to this.
A small remnant of snow covered in autumn leaves.
December 23, 2025 π± All that was left of the snow this morning.
We arenβt having a white Christmas, but I canβt claim to be deprived π
Weβre hogging all the snow, apologies.