It’s been a while since I blogged about the beauty of Lyon and the spring. Before you read through this post, please check out the post on ducks and swans, as well as the post about les jardins ouvriers.
Last week, I was running along the banks of the Rhône.
The trees are now adorned with leaves.
There are no more wispy hanging purple flowers. Les glycines (the wisteria flowers) have disappeared. So have the cerisiers en fleurs (cherry blossoms).
Instead, there are more colors than ever. White yellow orange lightred deepred.
The ducklings are growing up. These little fellows are taking a breather from the water by resting on a log.
The love and care that these people put into their gardens is so so apparent, even to someone who has no idea how to cultivate nature.One of the gardeners saw me peeking over the fence and came over to say hello. Once he realized that I was American, he told me that he had lived in Portland, OR for 10 years, 20 years ago. This is his garden.
Isn’t it just heartwarming how some people are willing to tell a little part of themselves to strangers?