Spring? What Spring!

We're on the cusp of June, and things are looking pretty good in the gardens. We've had ample rain, and cannot complain of a lack of sun. Wind, though, has been present in uncomfortable volumes, whipping things around and drying them out and generally leaving the impression that nature is putting us on notice that it is her will and determination that controls the environment, an essential order that we've never disputed, but would like to reasonably argue with her for a little surcease from time to time.

Today we had everything thrown at us. A little sun, to mitigate the cold temperatures that barely nudged above plus-4, rain, hail and high winds. Just so we won't be too complacent about our good fortune that spring has arrived, and the natural world around us has come emphatically alive after yet another long, cold and snowy winter. One wonders what the animals think of all this; knowing quite well how the rigours of anticipating a stable spring is regarded by most people.

The morning chill extended into the afternoon. The sunshine did not. The wind came up aggressively and with it clouds, dark and heavy, to obscure the hitherto clear blue sky. The clouds brought - what else? - rain, lots of it. But it didn't last; an hour later the sun was back out, and off we set for an afternoon jaunt in the ravine, knowing well how slippery the rain-sodden trails would be. It was just barely nudging above the freezing mark, so we wore warm hooded jackets.

Button and Riley wore respectable little woolen jackets too; red for her, blue for him. Which we fully anticipated would be speckled with mud and detritus on our return home. We weren't disappointed, and the water in the sink after dabbling their paws in it on our return was murky-dark and full of detritus as well. But while we were in the ravine, it was enjoyable. We've discovered this spring that jack-in-the-pulpits have spread to other parts of the ravine.

As have done bunchberries also. We're seeing those dogwood blooming where we've never seen them before. The lilies-of-the-valley, of course, are everywhere, as are the violets. And now the shrub dogwood too are blooming, their panicles of flowers white and beautiful. What is also spreading, albeit slowly, is meadow rue. Alas, what spreads like wildfire is horsetail, and that primitive plant doesn't get high grades for beauty.

There are strawberries in bloom everywhere, and a few trilliums defying ageism. The density of bright green everywhere we look is an amazing transformation from what the ravine looked like a mere two weeks earlier. The resulting canopy does offer some shelter from what falls from on high. Through the duration of our time in the woods this day the sun shone then disappeared as one squall after another overtook the bright disk and offered instead several bouts of hail.

Little icy pellets that bounced off the ground, off us and anything else they hit. And they did hit with some force; one trouncing my tender ear so I felt the assault. Bo so what! We were out enjoying ourselves and admiring the many faces and offerings of temperamentally untamed nature.