Spring has sprung

In March, the Robins began screaming through the trees in clusters of threes and fours fighting for the hen of their dreams, while subdued Cardinal couples bounced around the forest floor gathering fallen dogwood berries. And plump squirrels scavenged for nuts and twigs as if they, like I, were not convinced winter would ever end.

Spring taunted us. Two days of warmth, ten days of chill…a day of sun, three days of gloom…wind, rain, cold, hot…. The first signs of spring were subtitle, as they always are. Even though it was still cold, the plants knew. A crocus here, a paperwhite there…then a daffodil sprout, bulges on tree branches where leaves wanted out. And then, all at once, spring was announced by an explosion of cherry blossoms, daffodils, tulips, forsythia, pear blossoms, dogwoods, and budding azaleas.

Even so, it wasn’t until today that it really felt like we had broken winter’s grip. It was 77 degrees under a brilliantly blue sky, and the nursery was hopping. I bought my weight in flowers and herbs and spent the rest of the day arched over my gardenette (it really is small), tilling up worms in black soil, brushing aside bugs, and marveling at the prospect of warm summer nights, annoying mosquitoes, and the season’s first firefly.

The much-anticipated spring is here.