I imagined honeysuckle yesterday on my walk. I know it’s too early, though. Honeysuckle blooms mid-June here — around my birthday. Spring smells are intoxicating me (finally). Lilacs overgrown fifteen feet tall line the alleys here: twilight dark purple, soft lilac, and white cones. Dusty spring shower scent, sunday quick cut the grass before it rains hard smell. Heady rotting, worm filled, dirt smell as weeds get pulled up, including what seems like acres of Bleeding Heart volunteers near the bird bath. I’m dumping bags of shredded cypress mulch – no faux orange colored mulch here! Sneezing, oh well!
I transplanted a small rose bush that had been mistakenly planted halfway under a downspout at the corner of the garage. In the two years I’ve lived here, it’s budded a few tiny peach roses. Hopefully, it will survive then thrive in its new home in full sun.