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.

The Ides of March

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been in Virginia for a year now. The time has gone so quickly; it feels like just yesterday I was updating “3,000 miles and a Parrot”, as we drove those last few miles through that long tunnel under the Chesapeake Bay into Virginia Beach. And it feels like just yesterday we were watching the flowers peek out from their winter slumber (daffodils, dogwoods, pears, cherries, azaleas…) in the wonderment of a new world.

A spring, summer, and winter have passed, and I am watching the spring flowers peek out from their winter slumber again. This year, I have endured the winter and can truly appreciate their coming. Dark, morning runs at 20, 9, & 15 degrees; blustery afternoons when the wind bites unprotected ears; and the tease of recent 70-degree Saturdays that fuel my spring fever.

With the Ides of March tomorrow, I know that the tug-of-war between winter and spring will soon be over. March came in like a lion, with 9” of snow on March 1st. I hope it will hold true to proverb and go out like a lamb.

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Welcome to spring

It took years of living in (what most call) the land of eternal summer to recognize the subtle indications of spring. Now that I recognize it, it seems as obvious as the first purple Crocus breaking through the snow.

It begins about the same way every year. We have a week or two of gloomy skies just before the time change (even this year when the time change moved); and then one morning, the clouds break, the sky is brilliant, and the morning air is soft. Within a week, rose leaves spring from their woody stumps, baby leaves illuminate the backyard trees, and the gardens begin to grow again…even this year, when freezing temperatures leveled many of my beloved plants.

We exchange the small room heater in our bedroom for a box fan, and we leave the windows open late into the evening because the air feels good, not because we seared a steak without the exhaust fan on. It’s subtle, but it all happens within weeks.


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