The First Spring Flowers

The snow did not stay for long. By Leap Day, it was quite nice out.

Bow enjoyed sunning on top of the bench in the outer pen, as well as a rare treat: a tangelo.

It was warm, it was nice, and at dusk you could hear both the birds and the coyotes.

The burnt field began to turn green.

It is nicer now that we are in the month of March. Bow sometimes asks for his blanket, but it is not because he is cold, and not because he needs a blanket.

Sometimes Bow is just reluctant to defy genre expectations and talk about something other than his blanket.

The sunrises have become especially lovely in the last few days -- even nicer than sunsets.

And today, we saw the very first flower bloom by the lagoon.

Its leaves had been singed by the fire, but this crocus pushed through undeterred.

The next flower getting ready to bloom beside the crocus is a daffodil. But a stray dandelion on the lawn has beat it to the punch, already open in bright yellow splendor.

Fair weather is not promised to us, of course. It may yet snow again. It certainly does seem about to storm.

But as far as the flowers are concerned, spring has sprung

The View from the Outer Pen

There is an eight foot fence surrounding our back yard, That is mostly for privacy for Bow. It means that delivery people and others who mistakenly drive onto our property don't immediately have to spot Bow and start gaping at him, if he happens to be outside. But the privacy fence does not keep Bow from seeing things that are going on in the outer yard, if he wants. He can climb high and get a view of what is going on in the world beyond.

From the top of the bench rim, you can see the nearby tulip tree and the Weigela bush in the distance.

The tulip tree is getting ready to flower.

The old, dried out blossoms are still there, but this year's green flower heads are already visible and getting ready to open.

When I go to check on the Weigela blossoms, I know that Bow is watching me, and he sometimes vocalizes in my direction to let me know.

The Weigela blossoms have been open for a while now, and they are getting a little droopy. Their petals are falling one by one to the ground.

Still there are insects who find them attractive.

Sometimes I have trouble putting a name to the insect.

But sometimes they are just the familiar honey bee.

Back in the pen, Bow has a clear view of the flowering dogwood.

You can see the orientation of the pen toward these trees in the short video embedded below.

When I go for my afternoon walks, Bow also gets to be outside, if he wants to be.  Our grass has not been mowed yet, and so I get glimpses of tiny little flowers shooting up that I might otherwise never have gotten to see.

The clover flowers are so delicate and fresh.

Dandelions, both young and old, are making a nice showing.

These little tiny yellow flowers are so pretty, whatever they are called!

To make the flowers grow, sometimes all you have to do is not mow the grass for a while. The same is true for trees. Much as I hope that the new fruit trees we planted in the orchard will make it, there is a very good chance that some of them will not. When you "plant a tree" you are doing a very unnatural thing. It's not at all what the tree huggers would have you believe. You are not planting, but transplanting. You are tearing out roots and making them grow someplace else. It's a shock for the tree. Some survive and some don't.

But if you just don't always mow the lawn, you will be amazed at what shoots up all on its own, without any work on your part. On the other side of the driveway from our majestic tulip tree, a baby tulip tree is growing.

Nobody planted it. It just volunteered. But already it is getting ready to blossom. This little tulip tree, if left undisturbed, is better than any tulip tree I might buy in a nursery to plant, because it already has strong roots here.

Of course, just because a plant is growing, that does not mean its survival is guaranteed. Predation takes place at every level of the trophic pyramid. This peony by the lagoon is getting ready to blossom, but will those black ants let it?

When I get back from my walk, Bow usually wants to go back inside, and he tells me so.

Bow needs my help to unlock the metal door, but he opens the glass door all by himself.