from the Liverlilies (Hepatica nobilis).
But by mid-afternoon, with warmer
temperatures and much sunshine, they made their
appearance. I was excited, to put it mildly. This was an entirely unexpected treat.
last spring, you might be thinking – oh no, not the Liverlilies again. I am falling even more in love
them because they seem to do so well here. Their foliage also looks great throughout the summer. Their beautiful sky-blue flowers are simple, but elegant. Two neighbouring
Liverlily plants will soon be in bud, while two others are still
under snow on the shadier and cooler side of the garden.
plants with their own personalities and inhabiting a world constructed
entirely in my mind. In this world, plants slowly wake in the spring and
carefully fold their leaves to sleep in autumn. During their waking hours, the world
is brimming with activity – there’s drama, comedy, music, mystery, the odd chase
scene and so much more.
"What is that rustling noise I hear overhead?," I
murmured. Ah finally … some light and warmth on my back. Maybe if I
poke my head up, I’ll know if it’s time to emerge from my cosy world. One tiny
push and here I am, braving the world for the first time."Come on, hurry, it’s warm up here," I whisper to my
friends as I nudge them awake. "Wake up, wake up. We’ve slept long enough and
there’s nothing quite like the feeling of warm sunshine.""Not so quickly," cautioned the tattered, elderly
brown-leaf high above us. "Take your time – there’s no rush. The
sun isn’t going anywhere, at least not for a few hours.""I hope that big brown dog won’t step on us like he did
last year," grumbled a neighbouring bud, slowly stretching and yawning."It wasn’t his fault," said another elderly brown leaf.
"Don’t you remember that bothersome squirrel? I don’t mean the nice one he
liked, but the other one – the one with the fluffy tail?"This brought talk of our memories of last summer when we were
still under the earth, but listening to the world above. "That’s the squirrel who
ate our tulip neighbours just before we went on our long sleep," said our brown-leaved friend as she prodded another bud
Now that we buds were happily sunning ourselves, the
brown leaves swayed gently above us and talked among themselves of their happiness in seeing the blue sky. We listened intently and looked everywhere,
thankful that our world was bright with light again.