Monday, April 19, 2010

A WALK IN SPRING...

In 1915 or 1920, Robert Frost wrote a poem that has been my favorite ever since my lit instructor presented it to me. At the end of this post, you will find the entire contents of THE ROAD NOT TAKEN, but basically it says - of 2 roads given me the choice, I will always take the one less travelled in my life. Please take time to read the actual poem. So now, please come take a walk with me thru the edge of the woods and along our walking trail...
Last year I had a desperate search of nurseries for old fashioned perennials. One of the plants I sought was bee balm and managed to find a small pot at a nursery not too far away. So today I can feel very happy I purchased that small plant as the plant has tripled in size since its planting! My butterflies and hummers are going to be super happy this year. The walking onions are crowding a bit but a good thinning will help.
Further down the trail and intermixed with my hostas I have several iris beds. I found this lovely everlasting iris many years ago and have set it in several of the beds. It typically blooms in May and Sept - but alas someone did not tell it we're still in April.

And then as we walk along the path, here is a mere sampling of the hundreds of hostas I have growing everywhere. We have over 50 varieties - beyond that I quit counting - but the beauty of hostas year round is something special to a gardener.

Ferns have begun to grow along our walking path - deep in the dark of the woods with just a drip of occasional sunshine.

Mr. Jack (Jack-In-The-Pulpit) sticks his head above the garlic mustard towards the sun. Last year we counted over 50 jacks and we've planted even more seeds last fall, so hopefully we'll see hundreds throughout the woods this year.

The very first wild geranium is blooming today - very very early. But let it happen. Wild geraniums are truly the rose of the forest.

And last but not least a thick carpet of May Apples now cover the floor. Have you ever tasted a May Apple?

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
...Robert Frost 1915

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