The Spring Flood #1

It?s actually been ?sunny here today, with just enough warmth in the air to make it necessary to be in the garden. Doesn?t matter about the crushingly deep snow.

?So trudging out there I discover a whole flock of mourning doves having a merry old time in the water, digging in the bits of soil exposed to the air. And I?m an intruder.

?The garden is under water right up to about 15 feet from the house and I sink over my ankles in it when I get below the snow (which is about two feet on top of that).

?On the berm I can see little plants like sedges floating like mermaids with golden hair. Oops it makes one soggy just wandering around.?Sun is definitely going to my head. ?Of course, no amount of banging away at the ice is going to make one bit of difference. The pipes have burst in different spots and they merely move the water from one part of the garden to another.

?It?s very discouraging. Last year I got in a load of sand to build dikes around the perimeter but already I?m too late. Someone suggested piles of wood chips to absorb the water. I like the idea of sand better and it disappears in midsummer.

?I used to get out there and bail. I?d lug pail after pail of water out to the street. But I sure haven?t got that kind of craziness in my anymore, let alone the strength. But I understand now why I did it.

It makes you feel of some use—almost as if you were gardening however fecklessly. I?m thinking seriously of hitching up all the hoses to the sump pump and moving it out that way.

It?s madness, of course: we?ve got three more weeks of snow and awful weather. It?s going to get worse, it always does. So why am I rushing? It?s been way too long to be separated from the garden. Is this the longest winter on record? Seems so and it?s been particularly cold.

Even so, I feel relatively cheered up when I can see buds on the Stewartia pseudocamillia and the Viburnum bodnantense. Though it makes me think with longing of Victoria. Was it only a few days ago I was there?