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Took a while getting here this year – but after the snow, rain, hail, winds, damp, grey skies and general lacklustre demeanor – Spring is finally putting in an appearance. Mother Nature – who has been drumming her fingers on the counter-top for some weeks now – enquires frostily (seemed appropriate):
“What kept you”?
Cue the usual annual photos of Mother Nature doing what she does best…
“I’m here to tell you the tide will never stop coming in. I’m here to tell you whatever you build will be ruined, so make it beautiful.”
Hala Alyan
I find myself sitting here – on a blustery Valentine’s day – gazing from my studio window at the grey, choppy sea and the distant mountains – pondering questions of (im)permanence.
There is no question – regardless of anything that we might do – that this sea and these mountains will exist long enough to register as permanent (certainly by comparison with our measly four score and ten)… whereas the cherry blossom which is just starting to bloom on the tree at the bottom of our garden will be gone in a few short days (weeks at most).
A few years back – shortly after we came to Canada – I wrote a song which bore the title – ‘Cascadia‘. The lyric started thus:
Where I come from we are rooted in the land
Sinking where we stand in the slow sand
We know who we are – we’ve been here for so long
That even when we’re wrong we don’t care
In new found lands – where cities tremble on the brink
Closer than they think to Armageddon
Machines turn to rust and tremors shake the crust
Dominions of dust are blown away
The song came about because I was fascinated – having just moved to Canada – that in a country in which everything was considerably inflated by comparison with its north European counterparts (distances greater, climate more extreme, animals wilder, terrain more difficult) and subject to all manner of extreme events (snow storms, earthquakes, heat domes, avalanches, wildfires, arctic outflows, etc, etc) – domestic construction is, as far as one can tell, a good deal less robust than that to which we ‘old-worlders’ are accustomed.
Back in the UK I owned – at various times – portions of several houses constructed in the 1740s. Such buildings may have their short-comings by modern standards but they were clearly intended to last and tend to be fairly firmly embedded in the dark soils upon which they are erected.
Here in British Columbia most residential properties are constructed primarily of wood (no surprise there) and sit lightly upon the land. They are also considerably less valuable than are the plots of land upon which they are built. In many instances – should one see a house of maybe thirty or forty years of age for sale – one is not surprised when the purchasers simply tear it down and build a new one.
Even the fabric and fittings of these buildings seem destined not to be long for this world. Our house dates from the late 1970s and is thus positively ancient by Canadian standards. We were advised upon purchase that it had had its roof replaced some twelve years before our purchase – the which was therefore around halfway through its expected life (the shingles at least). The slate roof of our apartment in Buckinghamshire in the UK dated was back to sometime in the 19th century! The hot water tank here (powered in Canada by what we Brits would call an immersion heater) was replaced (cheaply!) when the house was put on the market in 2015. The Girl assures me that it is thus nearing the end of its useful life and must needs be exchanged for something more robust. I am sure that she is not wrong!
I am not entirely sure why I am musing upon such matters at this point – though the long wait for spring might have something to do with it. Yesterday and today have been particularly blustery and we were without power for a number of hours overnight – though fortunately all was restored by the time we awoke (thanks BC Hydro!).
Anyway – I feel that it will not be long until the news here, at least, takes a turn for the better.
The deep roots never doubt spring will come
Marti Rubin
American author Lionel Shriver wrote:
“February is for curmudgeons, whinge-bags, and misanthropes. You can’t begrudge us one month of the year or blame us for being even crabbier, it’s so short. There is nothing good about it, which is why it’s so great”.
Ah – ha! Not so short this year… this being a leap year!
That aside it is not altogether difficult to agree with Ms Schriver. By the time one has finished exhaustively cataloging all the reasons why February in so darn cheerless (Six Nations Rugby aside) it is almost over.
Hmmm!
However, what we all know – of course – is that under the forbiddingly dark, dank, semi-frozen soil, all of the tender young shoots are working out – gathering their strength ready to burst forth just as soon as spring gets the go-ahead. It may not look as though too much is happening right now – but it is all just waiting for the call to arms.
Now – as it happens this is not too bad an analogy for how things appear chez The Girl and I. To the casual observer nothing much might seem to be happening – but that would be misleading. We are currently both working (so much for retirement!) from home.
Having spent a considerable amount of time (and money) over the last few post-COVID years, driving into one or other of the College’s Victoria campuses, I find myself this year co-ordinating an online course from the comfort of my studio. I say co-ordinating – rather than teaching – because this course is entirely asynchronous… which means that I prepare course materials, make little videos, post all manner of resources on our learning platform and wait for assignments to roll in for marking. It is a not altogether unpleasant way of going about things, though I do miss the face to face teaching a little. It does seem to be – however – what the students require nowadays.
The Girl is also beavering away in her home office, on the project that cannot yet be named. Her endeavours actually also involve some travel (concerning which I am less keen) – but she does have a sparkle in her eye, which is good to see. Let’s hope that it stays there!
So – for now we just ‘sit back’ and wait. Spring will soon be here!
Time for some photos of plants growing in our garden. I know that I do this every year, but the garden is not the same from one year to the next so I don’t suppose that the images are either. Anyway – the nature of this journal is that there will always be something else along in a moment and there are no penalties for skipping ahead (I wanted there to be but couldn’t figure out how to do it!)…
The reason for my somewhat incredulous byline is that – no matter how much a part of it we all are – nature is still pretty much a riddle to me (wrapped inside a mystery etc, etc)… Take this Camellia for example. Some seasons back (maybe four or five) I pruned it back a little in the early spring. It was probably not the best time of year for such a treatment, but I was not too severe on the shrub; merely trying to persuade it not to stomp all over the ‘lesser’ plants around it.
The Camellia clearly took umbrage and refused to flower at all in any of the succeeding years – with the exception of the odd desultory bloom once in a while. This year – well, take a look for yourself:
Maybe I will post an update when all those buds burst into bloom.
“Reality is not always dark or positive. It is somewhere in-between”.
Antara Mali
It is Easter weekend and here on the west coast of Canada we are once again caught in between. Winter has tarried over-long and though we have had occasional glimpses of spring it has to be said that we have not yet truly broken though thereto. Even the garden seems unsure as to whether or not to really ‘go for it’ – or to wait for things to warm up a bit. Most of our daffodils took one look at the weather and decided not to bother with flowers this year. The tulips boldly unfurled themselves but are now looking as though they wished that they had not bothered. I have mowed the lawns a couple of times but even the grass seems to be in two minds as to where we are in the seasons’ cycle.
A quarter of the year has gone. The clocks are wondering if they made a mistake with ‘summer’ time, but the planetary movements are relentless and we are already more than half way to the longest day. Hardly seems possible, does it?
Our exciting trip to Africa looms ever closer but the whole thing still seems more like make-belief than reality. It will be real enough, soon enough! We (in truth, mostly The Girl) have focused our minds on the expedition to come by carefully equipping ourselves for the sort of adventure that I don’t believe either of us has encountered before (well – I certainly haven’t). Will it be a life changing experience? Time will tell (and so, of course, will I)!
I am just finishing a fairly tough term at the College, during which I have been teaching not one class but two. I feel sure that the mental exercise of maintaining overlapping schedules has been doing wonders for keeping my ageing brain sparking; a sort of fitness class for the intellect. I have certainly detected a fair bit of grumbling from that quarter – the which is pretty much how I am when it comes to physical exercise also. Ah well – at least the remuneration goes some way towards paying for our sojourn south of the equator.
Well – let us hope that things change for the better and that the year begins to feel as though it has truly sparked into life.
Not so many posts ago I was grumbling about the weather here in BC and mourning the loss of a number of shrubs and other erstwhile growing things in our garden. I have a feeling – in fact – that I visited the theme in more than one post, the which only goes to show just how poorly the climate has treated us thus far this year (now that I put it like that, of course, there is a rapid light-bulb moment as the realisation strikes that this maltreatment is undoubtedly mutual and indeed causal. What goes around etc, etc…).
Anyway, the weather has perked up just a tad (with the exception of today – bah!) and I have spent considerable amounts of time (and not a little cash on new rhododendrons, hydrangeas, viburnums and a plethora of hostas) trying to cajole what was left of the garden into some sort of shape; to make it look at least a little bit cared for. As it turns out I can still only make a plea for a small percentage of the credit for the turnaround that has occurred – nature herself seeming to rebound from the hard winter with considerable vigour regardless of my efforts.
Either way, I thought you might like to see some pictures of the improvements.
Many thanks are due to two good souls who have contributed in no small degree to this renaissance. A long-time and most dear friend furnished us with three gorgeous stone Bhuddas, the which needed a good home as a result of an impending move:
…and our good Glaswegian (but also long-time Canadian) horticulturalist friend not only provided much good advice but also graciously allowed us to make use of his wholesale discount at Island View Nursery.
Our most grateful thanks to both…
I wrote recently in rather gloomy terms on the subject of the less than stellar performance thus far this year of the weather gods… at least where this corner of Vancouver Island is concerned. Spring and/or summer (assuming that they eventually do turn out to be distinct seasons) have yet to put in an appearance. Temperatures in this usually clement corner of the world continue to lurk some five to six degrees Celsius below the usual average for the time of year and the endless rainfall does seem actually to have… no… end!
…and that really sucks!
Sadly, that isn’t the end of the bad weather news.
A quick search for ‘storms‘ in the archives for this blog will reveal that during the fall and winter seasons here on the island such phenomena are regular occurrences. They cause a certain amount of mild havoc – power outages – branches falling from trees – bins overturned… that sort of thing… but beyond that they are pretty much accepted as just part of the rich tapestry that is living in a country that is yet largely wilderness. Such events, however, are considerably less well tolerated in the supposedly balmy springtime and summer seasons (not that we have seen either yet!).
Today we had an extensive and unseasonal wind storm that included gusts of up to 90Kph. We had a three hour power outage – branches fell from the trees into our newly coiffured garden – our bins were blown over!
Bah!
I was in the studio working on some music. No power = no studio, however, so that was the end of that!
The other thing that I should be doing is working in the garden; amongst other things on planting out the recently purchased replacements (more on that later) for the various flora that we lost during the unpleasantly lingering harsh winter. I do draw the line, however, at venturing forth when repeated squally showers soak one to the skin and tempest-like gusts of wind threaten to bring large branches down upon one’s tender head.
It does look as though we might get a few sunny days now, but in gardening terms it will take me all that time just to get us back to where we were before the storm. At this rate the garden will be just about ready in time for this year’s fall storm season!
I’m afraid that it didn’t take me long to get back onto the subject of the weather… did it?
Sorry!
Tags: garden, Spring, Vancouver Island, Weather
Today is the 1st of May.
By rights we should be well into spring by now and heading rapidly towards to the balmy, bosky days of summer.
Here at the southern end of Vancouver Island the weather gods clearly did not get the memo. For the last however many weeks (endlessly, or so it feels) it has been, it is only fair to say, markedly chilly… not to mention damp to boot.
Now – if I were to be strictly fair there have been some quite sunny days and even on (rare!) occasions it has felt just the slightest touch on the warm(ish) side. Such days, however, have simply rendered the disappointment of subsequent, less passable days all the more bitter.
The garden – meantime – has blithely got on and done what gardens do at this time of year – ie. grow prodigiously, regardless of what is happening climate-wise. This is in marked contrast to its response during the winter when parts of it reacted quite negatively to what I thought was not really that bad a fall of snow. Clearly my understanding was based on some of the less appropriate of the fifty words that the Inuits apparently do not have for snow – and this was really quite, quite bad snow. That is certainly the impression given by the number of plants that turned up their toes (interesting metaphor there) and gave up the ghost (alright – stop this now!)…
Anyway – I really should be cutting the grass now instead of writing this…
…well – that’s done – and it didn’t actually rain – though it did think seriously about it!
Where was I?
Ah yes… The winter term at College has finished (there is a theme here!) and the summer term (during which for this year I will not be teaching) does not start for a few days yet. I am off duty until September, so my mind should now be turning to all manner of summer activities… which it sort of is – though a bit of a warm spell would really help things along the way.
Now – I think I have laboured the point quite enough to be getting on with and I do promise that my next post will contain no mention of the weather at all!
What weather?!
‘Tis the time of year that nature ‘springs’ (see what I did there?) back to life following the dread months of winter.
Naturally this means that it is also the time of year that I must reluctantly drag my sorry ar*e back out into the still cold and damp outdoors in order to start to ensure that there is some semblance of order in the garden before everything goes completely berserk.
Not these pretty pieris of course…
Nor this gorgeous cherry tree. Berserk is definitely not the word.
Nice blossom there. Sad that it only lasts about a week and a half before disappearing…
March means first cut for the lawn – and the usual thoughts about feeding and liming it.
Notice the rather splendid new garden fence – courtesy of our new(ish) neighbours below. They have done a good job on it, but it does mean we will be looking at new things to plant in front of it.
Another side effect of this tidying up of the boundary between our properties is that I now have a rather splendid – and functional – compost area. I have of late been spreading the products thereof over the beds in the front garden.
Much yet to do, of course!
“Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade.”
Rudyard Kipling
I make no apologies for posting more photos of the garden. This is – after all – its very best time of the year…
Tags: British Columbia, Gardens, Photo, Spring
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