May 1st –Maypoles,
floral wreaths and garlands,
small vases of first flowers.
Bursts of color.
“Spring — an experience in immortality.” – Henry D. Thoreau
For quite some time, I’ve been dreaming about my next trip to France. Paris, of course, but I also want to see Normandy. Among other sites, Mont Saint-Michel has been beckoning for years. And high on my list is a trip to Giverny — Claude Monet’s home and gardens. I would love to see it in all seasons, but for my first visit, I want to experience it in the springtime. Giverny is what happens when you give yourself completely, and passionately, to something you love.
Quotes from Monet’s letters:
“My garden is a slow work, pursued with love and I do not deny that I am proud of it. Forty years ago, when I established myself here, there was nothing but a farmhouse and a poor orchard…I bought the house and little by little I enlarged and organized it…I dug, planted, weeded myself; in the evenings the children watered.” – Claude Monet
“I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.” – Claude Monet
“My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece.” – Claude Monet
“People discuss my art and pretend to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it’s simply necessary to love.” – Claude Monet
“I work at my garden all the time and with love. What I need most are flowers, always, and always.” – Claude Monet
“I want to paint the way a bird sings.” – Claude Monet
“My heart is forever in Giverny.” – Claude Monet
Though most of the scenes in the Christmastime series (WWII stories of love and family that take place on the home front) occur in the month of December, there are a few flashbacks to spring, summer, and fall. The final book in the series, Christmastime 1945: A Love Story, will have two scenes that take place in the previous spring.
I often imagine what the rural scenes might look like — sometimes drawing on the memories of growing up in small-town Illinois. (A few years ago I took the photo below of a farm outside of town. The tractor had plowed all around the dilapidated house, leaving the poignant patch of history.)
Other times I search for images on Pinterest that to help set the rural tone — a few early spring flowers that bloom along the fences and in the meadow,
or signs of spring in the barnyard and nearby trees.
And always, I imagine the interior scenes that take place with Kate and her daughters, Ursula and Jessica —
warming up with a cup of tea in the farmhouse kitchen, a blanket reached for against the chill spring nights, a few notes plucked on the piano, the comforts of a hot bath and lavender-scented sheets after a long, hard day.
Life on the farm was hard, especially during the WWII years, but Kate and her daughters made sure to enrich their day-to-day living with small beauties and the comforts of home.
Amzaon Link: http://a.co/bZvcQIt
To be released later this year: Christmastime 1939: a prequel to the Christmastime series and Christmastime 1945: A Love Story.
March came in like a lion, roaring and pouncing upon us with several snowstorms. After yesterday’s March Nor’easter #4, the world this morning appeared soft and white, with the fences and tree branches outlined in snow.
Some of the trees looked like cotton bushes — fluffy white, and light as air. As if you could pluck a bunch of snow, stretch it thin, and spin it into cloth.
And yet — once spring has officially arrived, and April is close at hand, no one wants to hear about how beautiful the snow is. They’re ready for color and a bit of warmth, for signs of growth in the garden, and the first touch of green on the trees.
I’ve found a hint of spring in my garden in the small cluster of crocuses and a few green spears of hyacinth leaves — a welcome sight. All it takes is a bit of color to assure us of the promise of spring.
Lately, we’ve had a few unusually mild days here in New York, heightening the expectation of spring. I checked the garden to see if the crocuses were coming up, and sure enough I found a few slender green shoots.
But today there’s a bite in the wind, and a few small patches of snow still linger here and there. March, even April, can bring cold weather and snow, and it could be several weeks before we have any real blooms.
Though I actually love this changeable time of year, winter one day, spring the next, those few days of spring-like weather set up a craving for flowers. So today, I headed to the florist for an infusion of color and scent.
And there I found an array of bright pink roses, purple orchids, bursts of yellow and orange, and the heavenly scent of freesias. But giving the most delight, to me, were the small mixed bouquets in glass jars, arranged on a silver tray.
There are many ways to usher in spring. In my book, The Garden House, a young woman surrounds herself with drawings of flowers so that even in the heart of winter she is surrounded by blooms. Today, I was grateful for the NYC florists who keep spring alive all year long.
All it takes is a few mild days this time of year to germinate our longing for spring. So though today the wind is cold, I know that blossom time is not far away.
“O Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?” – Percy Bysshe Shelley