The wind is roaring in the treetops this morning. I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I do not like to hear the wind. Also, the temperature is warm and we have a 40% chance for rain. That must mean that spring is near and it’s time to start being on alert for tornado season. Neither, by the way, do I look forward to the possibility of those dangerous storms. But, it’s all a part of the changing seasons and weather cycles. It happens every year.
Yesterday, I finally saw it! I had been looking for that first crocus for over a month. I realized it would have a hard time pushing above the ice and snow we had a few weeks ago but the last several days have been much warmer. I’m sure this was encouraging to that long-awaited early spring flower. So, yesterday, there, among last fall’s leaves, on the west side of the driveway, where it always makes its appearance, came that long-awaited sunny flower.
About ten years ago, Sara and I planted lots of spring bulbs. We planted them in the fall, here and there in the yard, alongside the front walk. And we sang a little made-up flower song as we planted and put them to bed with a quickly improvised blessing, for God to protect them against squirrels and moles and other hazards in the earth. Alas, they bloomed profusely only that first springtime. Now, a few hyacinths and tulips struggle up through the darkness and only two or three crocus but that one lone little bloom always makes its appearance in the same place each year and it is a welcome sight in the drabness of brown leaves.
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