The time of April is upon us. “The time of the singing of birds has come.” The colors of April are  soft and the color of Aprils’ light is silver, I think. The smell of April is sweet and green-and the trees are shades of jade. April is a good time for wishful thinking.

It is a good time to look for “silver linings” as clouds “do not wander lonely” this month. I will begin planting at the rabbit patch in a few weeks-surely Jack Frost has” run out of shine” by then.  It is quite ordinary for me to plant in an April shower if it is falling in a friendly way.  It is a big mess to do so, but the plants seem to like it.  

Dandelions will show up to many people’s dismay. It can be disheartening to spend a day mowing, and then to see little stalks like soldiers lit up by moonlight just a short while later, in the yard.  For a while, I was not on friendly terms with them either, but the older I get, the less quarrel I have in me-so now, I make dandelion wishes and hope for the best.  Little hands use them for bouquets-and that endears them to me as well. In fancy restaurants, the greens are used for salads and I may try that this year. Dandelions, like everything else, is all about how you see it.

April will answer many of my winter dreams. I have big plans to fill this yard with the sweet dianthus. I find them delightful flowers with their humbleness of little delicate blossoms and sweet fragrance. I add more of them every year, along with roses-another favorite. This year I want a “Sweet Betty” bush. They are not so lovely, but their fragrance makes up for it.  My grandmother had one and I still remember the spicy scent it lent to evening air. I also want to try my hand at Aprils’ own flower, the sweet pea, though I think they are short lived. Usually i will only plant perennials , but geraniums are the exception. Farmhouse porches ought to have geraniums on them. The scented ones are especially nice. 

I will finance this endeavor, by borrowing from the grocery money. The boys are on to it and have been for a long while. They will not enter a garden center or a book store with me. They say I go in to a trance, and that may be so.

For the  love of April is a mighty thing. . .It’s when “white moths are on the wing-a shower shows up with a song to sing  . . . all for the love of April!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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