As so often happens on the Chilcotin, we have no real spring – the seasons turn directly from winter into the headlong rush of summer. There is so much work to do! The garden is forging ahead.
When I cam back from Williams Lake with the new batch of volunteers, we ran into the leaders of the 300 head of cows that my neighbour was turning onto the summer range. Fortunately we had to nudge our way through only a small proportion before reaching my turnoff.
I’ve had very little time to enjoy the burgeoning life, but I snatched a couple of moments to notice the flowers: Silky phacelia.
Small-flowered penstemon and pussy toes.
The vivid purple penstemon with inch-long blooms.
A few scrappy paintbrush.
And everywhere the heady scent of wild roses.
It’s been hot, hot, hot. No frost for about 3 weeks until a couple of days ago. It shrivelled some of the garden stuff but it is still growing like crazy.
Most sunrises have been rather insipid, as often happens with clear skies, but the other morning we had a great display. Every few minutes the light changed dramatically.