Tag: first flowers of spring

  • Signs of Spring: Snowdrops

    Signs of Spring: Snowdrops

    snowdrop 2013

     

    I began
    My story early, feeling, as I fear,
    The weakness of a human love for days
    Disowned by memory, ere the birth of spring
    Planting my snowdrops among winter snows

    -William Wordsworth

     

    I was so upset I missed our snowdrops two weeks ago while I was sick— saddened I’d missed this first sign of spring returning. It’s like Christmas Day having fallen asleep during It’s a Wonderful Life the night before. Nice and all, you’re not going to opt out or anything, but it’s just not the same. I’ve marked the emergence of the snowdrops for a lot of years now and it’s a harbinger of sunshine, happiness, contented chaos.

    Luckily the preserve trail down the way has virtual drifts of snowdrops… waves of white and shocking green standing out against the leaves, swaying and saying cheekily Spring is here, Spring is here, Spring is here.

    I feel much better, now.

    I’m thinking I should really plant some more early spring native flowers around our house. Such an easy way to ensure gladness in my heart, one year from now. Why haven’t I done so already?

     

     

     

     

     

  • Of Marsh Marigolds and Cowslips: Signs of Spring

    Of Marsh Marigolds and Cowslips: Signs of Spring

    March wildflowers

    I will be the gladdest thing under the sun!
    I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.

    ―Edna St. Vincent Millay

     

    Today was the snowstorm that wasn’t. The forecast called for anything from 0-16 inches, and we pretty much just got WIND and some rain.

    I mourned the loss of John Bolaris, our ex-weatherman who once predicted another storm that wasn’t, prompting schools to close, salt truck drivers to work overtime and households to stock up on bread, milk and eggs for no good reason. It’s bad enough to be promised a foot of snow and given a smattering of rain; it’s downright insulting when you don’t have a personal love-hate relationship with a local weatherman to blame it on.

    If I’m being very honest, though, I don’t mind at all the lack of snow. I’m ready for winter to be over. Ready for the sun on my face.

     

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    One of those freak warm days in January, 
    when I got to run in a tank top.

    Check out my pit sweat. Nice.

     

    I missed the emergence of the snowdrops last week, right on schedule, those wonderfully pale noddings of warm weather to come. Jeff brought me one while I was still shivering with fever, but I didn’t get to see or photograph them outside.

    On Sunday I saw these yellow flowers while on the trails. I’m not sure what they are; the timing suggest marsh marigold but the leaves are wrong; cowslip seems right but if so they are quite early. Professor Google has let me down, so if you know please share 🙂

    I’m glad to know they’re still there, not wilting under a layer of melting snow. Waiting for me to run tomorrow and see them again.

    Everything is reawakening. Including me.

    Is spring stirring in you?

     

     

     

     

  • Darling Buds of… February

    Darling Buds of… February

    first flowers of spring

     

    Every spring is the only spring—

    a perpetual astonishment.

    -Ellis Peters

    It never gets old, does it?

    I write this post every year. The quotes may be different, the photos better or worse. But every year the snowdrops and the crocuses push their way free and I cannot help but be amazed.

    This, I think, is one of the most important reasons to acquaint yourself and your kids to the outdoors, to be aware of nature’s rhythms and seasons.

    The yearly realization of your own capacity for hope.

    For joy.

    For rebirth.

    purple crocus
    2011 crocus
    crocus
    Crocus 2010
    2009 crocus
    2009 crocus
    2009 crocus
    2009 again
    2009 crocus and bee
    Clearly I had more free time in 2009.