The Sprunging of Spring

It's spring. The world in London, ON is coming to life. Were I in Whitehorse, I'd still have another month to wait before the furry crocuses opened. I admit it, I prefer my spring to come in April. The days are lengthening, there's more sunshine (although a fair bit of wind and rain, yet) and generally, I'm in a better humour.

My flowerpots, sitting neglected on the veranda, still harbouring the skeletal remains of last year's plants, are whispering my name every time I pass them. I will shortly make a pilgrimage to Canadian Tire for potting soil. It's time to rake up the detritus of winter and turn the soil for planting. As I currently have no intention of leaving this apartment, I presume I will return to my role of 'gardener'. Such a grand old house deserves a pretty garden.

Last year taught me a few things about what grows best, so I shall opt for more geraniums, nicotiana, and perhaps regionally appropriate flowers. I won't waste money on impatiens; the western exposure dries them out and I can't be out every afternoon watering them with individual attention. I will look for hardy plants that can handle competition from shrubs and day lilies, but still offer up bright blossoms. Maybe I'll do a drawing and make a bit of a garden plan.

I love the anticipation of what might come.