|The wild rhododendron in the Rambouillet forest near our house.|
You know by now that we are surrounded by the magnificent Rambouillet forest where we can ride our bicycles or walk either on the natural paths or make our own way through the trees. (We could also ride our horses if we owned them, which, unfortunately we do not.)
Any wood that is lying on the ground is there for the taking and makes for excellent small logs and kindling for the fireplace.
Of course the forest is also prime hunting ground for mushrooms although I’ve never participated in that national sport. Happily I have generous friends who always give us baskets of cepes without ever divulging where they found them. (That’s another detail in the sport. No one ever tells where they find their treasures.)
On a recent walk through the forest with Charlotte it occurred to me that I have never mentioned another “national living treasure” in the forest, wild rhododendrons. Aren’t they absolutely divine? They’re much prettier than the ones we have in our garden.
|At last, the forsythia. . .|
Meanwhile back on the home front, our forsythia is transitioning from bud to blossom. This is always my signal that spring is officially here. For reasons known only to Mother Nature, spring took its sweet time arriving this year.
Now we’re heading out to buy more rose bushes. It’s an annual pilgrimage, which for the last several years always poses the question: where are we going to plant them? Last year we put three in the potager, which didn’t exactly add to the overall esthetics of the garden, but definitely added an overall beauty to my bouquets.
I’m still trying to figure it all out. . .