Spring from coast to coast
I just returned from a two-week trip visiting my brother and his family in Port Townsend, Washington. Spring had officially sprung there with daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths in all their glory, and purple irises just preparing to show off their beauty. One morning I sat for several minutes watching a hummingbird suck nectar from the periwinkle flowers of creeping myrtle just outside the little cottage AirBnb I stayed in. It all felt quite magical, to be honest, after enduring an extremely long, cold Vermont winter.
Having not visited the Pacific Northwest in several years, I was happily reminded of some of the exotic plants there that do not grow (as far as I know) in New England. One of my favorites is the monkey puzzle tree, which looks straight out of Dr. Seuss book or like it was constructed from a Lego® set. I also spotted an unfamiliar bush that was in full bloom and also educed a Dr. Seussical response from my childlike brain. It turned out to be a Mediterranean spurge (see it in the picture above). Spurge is an amusing word to me. I just Googled it and discovered the spotted spurge is a weed that I regularly pull out of gardens in Vermont. And now I feel pretty proud that I’ve discovered the name of that weed and that I will forever know that it is a spurge. Plants never cease to entertain me.
My brother and his family live on a delightful, little hobby farm, complete with an impressive apple and pear orchard, a flock of approximately 20 hens (they sell excess eggs to their neighbors—it’s very wholesome), a greenhouse, enough raspberry vines to sustain the raspberry needs of their entire town, a barn, a yurt, and an incredible English shepherd named Huckle who protects the chickens, kills rats (yes, rats), and is just an overall delight to be around (see dog in picture). I packed some gardening pants in my suitcase and was able to bust them out one day while I helped compost and mulch the raspberries and weeded the 1-inch-tall carrots (literal baby carrots) in the greenhouse. I also seeded some basil for my sister-in-law whose prior seeding of basil failed to germinate. (She accidentally used seeds from 2012.) It felt great to be crouched down on the dirt and have the earth stuck underneath my fingernails. (This is Carrie in her natural habitat.)
Though I did spot some yellow and purple crocuses on a walk yesterday, spring still feels a bit of a ways off in Vermont, at least it does to me as I have just experienced a very neatly manicured version of the season. (Port Townsend is a fancy, little Victorian seaside town full of wealthy people with plenty of cash to invest in landscaping.) Spring feels far off also because I got sick on my way back from Washington and am currently sitting in my pajamas, blowing my nose, and talking to myself in a raspy voice as I type this. Tomorrow is opening day for my collective garden (Sungold Collective Garden!—I’ll tell you more about it later) and I might have to sit it out so I can get better. Big sigh. In the meantime, I’ll be holed up in my little apartment prepping cards, stickers, and prints of garden- and nature-related things for the Bloom Home and Garden Market at Hula in Burlington on April 25 and 26. Super excited about selling my artwork there and getting more exposure. Tickets are still available! Come see me!