Easter in the Garden

Happy Easter!  Or, if you are not a believer, Happy Spring!  They seem to have arrived simultaneously. 

 As my children have grown up and become adults some of the old Easter traditions have been laid to rest.  Or, it may just be because Zee, to whom holiday traditions seem to have meant the most, no longer lives at home.  It's easier to get excited about decorating for, and celebrating, holidays when someone else in the house enjoys it, too.

The Easter Bunny arrived early enough for me to see what he (or she?) brought before I went to bed.

The first thing to go was dying Easter Eggs, which we stopped doing several years ago.  It was hard to give up since we'd been doing it since Frank (older son) was a baby, but, again, it was Zee (younger son), who enjoyed the tradition the most.  And it was a waste of eggs since they were never eaten, only displayed in the Easter baskets.  I always felt guilty about that, and had aspirations of doing something both less wasteful and more ambitious in the way of decorating eggs.  Perhaps another year.....

The tiny Easter Bunny cakes look too good to eat.

This year I never got around to finding a branch to bring in for an "Easter tree" to hang the miniature bunnies and Easter baskets on.  Winter lingered.  The dresser in the dining room where this display usually resides has rather too many houseplants on it this year, as well as a bunch of dried lavender waiting to be made into sachets.  My African violet collection "somehow" doubled this winter, and the two oldest ones are huge.  I don't really have room for them all, but each one is a different color.

I redistributed some of the goodies from the bag.


The Easter Basket tradition is still going strong however.  My husband still buys chocolate bunnies from Granite State Candy Shoppe in Concord, and I still get Hersey's chocolate eggs, a few other types of candy, and books for the baskets.  The contents of Zee's basket will get mailed to him tomorrow.  This tradition will continue for a while, I think, since I have so much fun buying presents.  

Everyone gets a basket, whether they're here or not.

The rector of my church is on a mini sabbatical, which means that the 5:00 am Easter service was  cancelled.  It made perfect sense, since the sub was coming all the way from Nashua.  I understood the reasoning and had resigned myself to going to the 10:00 am service - there were going to be trumpets, after all - but yesterday afternoon I knew I was not satisfied. I love that early service that begins in the dark and silence and ends with triumpant singing and bell ringing at dawn.  There is just something so soul-satisfying about it.  Waiting silently in the dark with the faithful women who did not abandon Jesus, waiting for the daylight to wash and prepare for burial the dead body, no less beloved though its existence signals the end of all they hoped for. And then, terror and disbelief and unimaginable joy coming with the sunrise.  It's the point in the whole story where it's easiest to feel and understand the emotions of those who were there.  And I wanted that.

So, I decided I would stay home and try to recreate that experience for myself.  I would get up early in the morning while it was still dark and go outside and wait for dawn in my garden and read the story in my Bible.  Hopefully the rain would hold off, or be very light.  I did neglect to check the time for sunrise, however, so when my alarm went off at 6:00am it was already mostly light.  I made tea and went out anyway, and read the passion and Easter stories in both Matthew and Mark.  Already the details of the story are different, and they only get more so in Luke and John.  I am more inclined to trust Mark, since it is the earliest version.

The southern sky around 7:00am

It was wet, but the rain had stopped for the moment.  And it was early Sunday morning quiet, mostly birdsong - robins and titmice, and at one point a string of eight geese flew overhead.  The geese didn't make much noise, just an occasional squawk to make sure each one was where they were supposed to be.  No matter how many times I see and hear them, I never get over the thrill of it.  Who needs trumpets?

Raindrops clinging to crocuses.

Crocus, chionodoxa and the first daffodils are blooming in the garden.  And my one snowdrop.  All winter I live for this time of year.  There are little tulip and iris leaves.  And the little red spears that will become big bushy peonies are pushing through the soil.  Sprouts on the lilac bushes are becoming baby leaves.  Fuzzy poppy leaves are six inches high.  I left my tea half-finished on the cafe table and wandered around the front garden with my camera.

An unusual stripe.

It was necessary to take inventory.  Spring is also a nerve-wracking time, when one waits to see if everything has survived the winter.  Hallelujah!  The roses all have leaf buds!

The usual kind of stripe.  My favorite crocus.

Chionodoxa and thyme

Carleton Daffodils.  They've taken over this section of the garden, which is a joyful thing.  I'm hungry for daffodil yellow after the long winter.

Taking inventory turned into doing a bit of badly needed weeding here and there.  I never got the garden cleaned up last fall and dandelions have seeded themselves everywhere.  Once I get out in the garden I frequently lose track of time and keep doing "just a little more" until suddenly it's the end of the day, and I never remembered to go in for lunch.  Not this morning, however.  By 8:00 it was raining again, so I collected my Bible, camera, and mug and came inside, refreshed and exhilerated by my Easter morning in the garden.
How does your garden grow?