A date will have to be considered for the 2nd Rose Party...
The beginnings of lilies.
Three bronze fennel plants survived the winter. Cut back, they resprouted in the fall, confirming the sheltered nature of this tiny terrace.
Pow! I planted this bucket with orphaned bulbs from Holly, Wood and Vine thinking to put it in front of my building to greet Vince last weekend. Then I got greedy and self righteous, thinking that if the slobs who live downstairs couldn't be bothered to spruce up their space, why should I.
Very loud. Not my usual choice of hyacinth, but it was available and still smells like a hyacinth.
The sweet, sweet violets.
Above our heads, a changing sky.
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