The yellow flower of the witch hazel is something John and I look forward to seeing each year. It brightens our spirits in early March, just when the winter season seems never ending.
This year we were especially pleased to see blooms on the branches that were damaged during Superstorm Sandy.
The bandaging John did to fuse the split branches appears to have been successful (see November 2, 2012 posting ‘Rescue and Triage’). He has a green thumb and a therapeutic touch.
When we were selecting plantings for the Camp area, vernal witch hazel seemed an ideal candidate. It is a hearty shade-tolerant understory tree with a low-branching and spreading habit, but its most endearing and somewhat magical trait is it produces colorful blooms in the midst of winter. So, we decided to plant two of them.
Each year we make an effort to get out and enjoy their display of frilly yellow flowers (and take in their sweet, albeit slightly acrid, fragrance).
On Tuesday, the mild 40 degree temperature and bright sunshine provided an opportunity for us to have an alfresco lunch. Lentil soup topped with crumbled goat cheese was served (fortunately, we like lentil soup and goat cheese).
In previous years, the weather was not always as mild,
but neither was John’s chili.
After a satisfying lunch, on a beautiful day, in the presence of our magical witch hazels, I thought conditions were ideal to sit back, check in with one another, and share some quality personal time.
That was right around the time that John thought conditions were ideal to check on the progress of the snowdrops he planted in the fall — just beyond the tree.
I still managed to have a heart to heart discussion.
I listened to Jack’s issues: Not getting enough kibble. Wishes he could exercise more. Wants more play time. Squirrels are driving him crazy. Not getting enough kibble…
Same old story — it goes ‘round and ‘round like an old record…
but I think just being there and listening was good therapy.
live. enjoy. repeat.