I have never been much for growing things (maybe it was the huge gardens we raised when I was a kid). Since I left home I have had exactly 3 house plants, and they’ve all died of neglect. I used to say that I had a black thumb. But … whoever lived in my house before me planted perennials, so I have spring flowers.
And they tickle me to no end. I smile, I giggle, I talk about “my daffodils blooming” and “my crocuses coming up,” just like I had something to do with it.
They herald the hope of the season for me, and I thank whoever planted them from the bottom of my heart every year as the cold finally creeps away and the first purple crocus peeks out of the ground.
The crocuses (which are finished now) were beautiful.
But the weird weather we’ve been having around here (really, snow on April fools?) messed with my daffodils. (Hear the ownership I feel?) They did bloom, but the stems had already bent over in the cold/wind/storms.
There’s something especially sad about flowers that point at the ground. But, spring is coming, and, whether it’s frozen or not, the moisture we’re getting will make everything greener in the long run.