Spring things

When I talked to my brother in the Red Deer area last week, he was pleased that the weather was improving. It was to be minus 16 the next day, he said -- balmy compared to the minus 20s and 30s his part of Alberta has seen this winter. Not to be too gloaty,  I told him we'd had the fifth-wettest January on record, with almost 250 millimetres of rain and hardly any sun for a whole month. I didn't say the crocuses are almost blooming, and the daffodil buds are showing yellow.

 Here are a few scenes I've come across lately in my wet -- but very very warm -- city.

The on-again, off-again lake in our local park is back, thanks to a winter of heavy rain. People seem to be enjoying it so much I think it should be a regular feature. One little girl (wearing rain boots) was wading in it with her dog.

The pier-like structure is the base of the kids' zip-line in the park. The bench their parents usually watch them from has its feet in the water.

The pink dawn viburnum is blooming in front of our house.

Elderly kale that has seen a hard winter is almost as big as a shrub in this boulevard garden box. It doesn't look very edible.

Crocuses ready to bloom with a little bit of sunshine.

The winter sweet by my front steps. It doesn't look like much, but the scent is tropical.

A batch of white snowdrops and yellow spring flowers in someone's front garden.

I always learn the name of these yellow ones, then forget it for the following year. But I know they're not dandelions!

This is how my brave little delphinium looked after our week or so of snow this winter. I thought it was going to make it -- perhaps put out some early blooms -- but shortly after I took this photo, it turned black and died. 

Hellebores are a cheerful splash of colour in early spring gardens.

My neighbour's drift of snowdrops. 

The earliest  daphne, one of three different types I planted last year, should be scenting the garden soon.

My primulas are a little ragged, but they're on their second season, and I applaud their efforts to make a comeback. 

I have one big witch hazel in my garden, but planted a second one last year because I want the scent in stereo. This is the little guy, blooming away.