.......................................... Strix the harbinger
...........................................guards OakWood's gate, ever asking,
.............. . ......................................"Whooo passes this night?"

Monday, June 2, 2008

Oakwood is Green

After a mild Winter, Spring came to Oakwood late this year. The leaves have just about filled out, but the oak leaves still have a Spring transparency. When the light shines through them, it tints the sunlight green, rather like stained glass. There is a tendency to speak in a church whisper now, which will pass when the leaves turn to hunter green leather. I had a friend who had recently moved from New England. He kept committing on how green everything was out here. I really don't think Minnesota is any greener than New England; it just happens more suddenly and a little unexpectedly. All of the energy of nature is held pent up through the Winter, and when it can, it just explodes with life.


The entry garden. Unkempt, but lush. As always, I have good intentions for grubbing out and moving plants, and replacing the failing fence.


View off the back deck through the trees to the barnroofed, over-garaged, starter castle across the bay. A classic case of money not necessarily equaling taste. In fairness, I should note that I may be a little bitter. They built on that location so they could have a view of my oaks, and then cut down all of, what had been, my vista. I considered cutting down my trees to spite them. After I had cooled down a bit, that seemed possibly short-sighted. I am, as Hillary says, still reserving the option.



A couple of shots of the flower garden. No roses yet. The five tree peonies are pretty spectacular, in a more delicate way. This is the first or second day of flowers - mostly buds. In two days the bushes will be covered. But I probably won't be out with a camera then. Take what you get.

The steps should be repaired, the dwarf hostas grubbed out and a handrail installed. I like the look, and probably won't deal with it until someone turns an ankle. Probably an old gardener. Me.

No comments: