The fickle nature of the season has me in short sleeves one day, down parka the next -- it's as though Mother Nature is reluctant to give up Winter and concede to Spring. Was able to work in the garden earlier this week, and now we're due for another slow flurry ..! Dizzying changes!
Still, driving yesterday yielded large swathes of color as woodland trees break buds to give all the greys a touch of magenta, emerald and gold ... filling us with hope that spring will come soon.
In the words of Hal Borland "Sundial of the Seasons:"
March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice.....She has whims and winning ways. She's exasperating, lovable, a terror-on-wheels, too young to be reasoned with, too old to be spanked...
"March is rain drenching as June and cold as January. It is mud and slush and the first green grass down along the brook...
"March is pussy willows..hepatica...arbutus. Sometimes it is anemones and bloodroot blossoms and even brave daffodils. March is a sleet storm pelting out of the north the day after you find the first violet bud...
"March is the gardener impatient to garden; it is the winter-weary sunseeker impatient for a case of Spring fever. March is February with a smile and April with a sniffle. March is a problem child with a twinkle in its eye."
I couldn't have said it better!
Thursday, March 13, 2014