For love of dirt

The classroom next to mine is the homeroom of my colleague Mr. D, who's worked at Roseland forever, and is much loved by his former students, although his current ones are not quite ready to remember him fondly quite yet. :) He's a wonderful man, although he has a bit of a rough exterior. The subject we do connect on, though, is gardening. He and I were talking about the lettuce and radishes he has coming up in his yard, and his eyes began to sparkle talking about the wonderful salads they had for months off of last year's harvest. Feeling my face light up as well, I remarked that my spinach were looking ready to put in the ground too, and he advised me to do it soon, which I plan on doing. (Friday, methinks. For some reason I have a hard time gardening on a school day. At least so far. I expect that will change.) It's just so delightful to share a conversation with someone who feels the same way about how dirt smells. And how the green of a brand new plant pushing out of the ground is the most beautiful color in the world. And who appreciates a sunny day not simply for the tanning opportunities or the change from rain, but because of all the photosynthesis it will enable.

Speaking of, one of my favorite things about leaving the house early in the morning in Spring is the fact that, when I leave the house, I smell dirt. Have you ever smelled dirt? Good, rich, dark, garden dirt? It's intoxicating. There are few scents I enjoy more. Of course, the mixing in of manure, fertilizer, compost, plant food, and coffee grounds contaminates the experience somewhat, I'd imagine. I was a little disappointed this morning that the air smelled more like manure than dirt, but I suppose it is max-your-lawn time. But really. Dirt. If you have access to the good stuff, smell it. Or just walk through the garden section at your local big box store. Or bury your nose in a bag of potting soil. Or whatever. But do it, and thank me.

Living Color

One of the lovely things about Spring is that there are all sorts of lovely things growing up around my house that I didn't even have to plant. These little purple things are a volunteer tulip-type thing that actually just grew up right out of the lawn, although I'm not sure how you get an accidental bulb flower. But lovely, regardless.

Also purple in the backyard right now are violets. They are EVERYWHERE, literally a weed. I've actually had to dig them out of the plots I want to garden because I know they will crowd out any plants I put in there. Growing up in Tucson, we had a scraggly violet patch that, against all odds, came back year after year with its cheerful little purple blossoms. I love having it back here, and welcome it as a weed to fill in the cracks in the sidewalk!

The next two pictures I consider a study in urban botany. I think the chain link sets off the flowers pretty dramatically! Walking around the neighborhood lately, I've decided that my favorite flowers are daffodils, so I was thrilled last year when these popped up in the spring and flowered! They came back this year, and I am glad they did. Also, obviously, there are some tulips back there too. I really love the color on these ones. I'm not sure who planted these guys, there's only one of each plant, and they're back by the alley, where not many people, aside from myself, can enjoy them. I dunno, whatevs. :) I'm happy about the situation.

Whenever I see tulips, daffodils, and the like, I have to restrain myself from telling the nearest hapless individual about monocots, and how they differ from dicots. (See, it's an issue of numbers of petals and stamens. And leaves. But enough of that.) I don't know why that stuff stuck with me so clearly from grade school, through high school, and into college and beyond. That and categorizing leaves based on shape. What a nerd, sheesh...

I will post more on my own plants soon, but these lovelies have been a part of my joy for the past week, so I thought I'd share :).