Finally it’s spring
On the
sidewalk to the mail box one recent mid-morning, I looked down into the teeny
tiny blue faces of what I call Johnny-Jump-Ups, or bluets. They are a sure sign
that spring is here. One year, before the new subdivision folks moved all the
dirt, a bank of blue grew across Couchwood Street.
Returning,
I stopped, looked around and noticed that blobs of white dotted the edge of the
yard that fronts the street. White irises! All up and down the perimeter—under
the sassafras, in the yucca bed, near the redbud, and even down the concrete-block
wall that delineates the old driveway.
Also, near my feet was a clump of white daffodils I’d moved
from the lower yard several years back. Their fragrance was strong––second only
to the aroma of hyacinths. I plucked a couple to add to the bouquet on the table
with japonica, spirea and Japanese kerria.
And then the hopefully-final freeze came. Irises, limp, had
fallen to the ground. Two smallish azaleas died, and the camellia blooms turned
brown. Alas.
But two long-lived, red tulips still held their pretty heads
aloft. The kerria didn’t appear to be diminished. An old small-flowered pink
azalea next to the house on the east bloomed!
My spring table bouquet holds some of of the plants
mentioned. Thank goodness for spring. But” my son says, “I haven’t seen any blackberry
blooms. There’s blackberry winter yet.” Out back, I showed him a lone
blackberry bloom. “What do you know!” Let’s hope last Sunday’s freeze served as
our blackberry winter. About time for the inside plants to go outside.
Happy spring to one and all!
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