From left: The weirdest flower #inmygarden every year, the allium, one of seven (Seven! Six of which come from one division two years ago of the first one I planted) geranium magnificums blooming fit to bust, and the lady’s mantle (swipe in to see how it collects the dew on its leaves).
The rugosa rose next to my front door (one to each side) with forget-me-nots peeking out from underneath, pink pussy toes in the Alaska wildflower garden (which is getting too crowded and needs to be dug up and divided, oh joy), and the Pacifica peonies revving up in the fern garden. Mr. Walter Faxon and Her Grace the Duchess de Nemours have deigned to throw out only one bud each this year but the Pacificas never fail.
The fabulous Golden Queen trollius, the Ruffled Velvet iris, aka the glamor queen of the garden, and the last of the Himalayan poppies.
A defiant display of bloomery after the coldest, wettest, windiest spring in my memory.